Extravaganza!
by Keitorin Asthore
Summary: Kurt had never been to summer camp, so he had no clue what to expect, much less a summer filled with showtune medleys, Warbler vs. ND prank wars, poison ivy, sock puppets, Wes and David in hula skirts, cheer-offs, breakups and makeups, and thunderstorms.
1. Friday, May 27th

Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, not me.

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><p>This was going to be the best summer <em>ever<em>.

Kurt lounged in the front passenger seat of Blaine's red jeep, his feet propped up on the dashboard. Blaine drove with one hand lazily turning the steering wheel and the other clasped firmly around Kurt's. Wind ruffled their hair through the open windows and the radio pumped out the first top 40 hit of the summer and the sun shone just bright enough to merit sunglasses.

If this was any indication of how summer was going to be, summer was going to be _phenomenal._

"What was that for?" Blaine asked, sounding amused.

"What was what?"

"You just sighed," Blaine grinned, his sunglasses sliding on his cheekbones. "Why'd you sigh?"

"Just happy, I guess," Kurt said.

Blaine squeezed his hand. "Happy about what?"

"Happy that's school's out," Kurt said, stretching his legs on the dash. "Happy that it's summer. Happy that we're dating." He sighed in contentment, leaning over to rest his head on Blaine's shoulder. "Now we get to spend the whole summer together."

"Oh," said Blaine.

Kurt sat up. "You said 'oh'," he said. "That didn't sound like a good 'oh.' That sounded like a bad 'oh.'"

"It's, uh, it's not a bad 'oh'," Blaine said, squirming a little. "But it's not really a good 'oh', either."

"Then what?" Kurt said. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Blaine took a deep breath. "I'm going to summer camp," he said.

"Oh," Kurt said. "Well, that's not so bad, that's-"

"For eight weeks."

Kurt dropped his hand from Blaine's. "Eight weeks?" he shrilled. "Blaine, that's…that's almost the whole summer! We'll have…we'll have like…like six days to spend together! That's not fair! That's…"

His voice trailed off and he slumped down in his seat, arms folded across his chest. All of his happy summer plans- going shopping with Blaine, inviting Blaine to the annual Fourth of July cookout, going to see Blaine perform at Six Flags, meeting Blaine at the pool, snuggling with Blaine in the back of an air-conditioned movie theater- drifted away from him like soap bubbles.

"Hey, it's really not that bad," Blaine offered.

"You are going away to _summer camp _for _eight weeks,_" Kurt grumbled. "How is that not bad? And why didn't you tell me?"

Blaine sighed and changed lanes. "I was going to tell you tomorrow night," he said. "My acceptance letter just came today. I wanted to have a little time to prepare for this."

"Acceptance letter?" Kurt said, still slouching in the passenger seat with his eyes fixed firmly ahead. "What is this, Harvard camp?"

"No, I'm not going to Harvard camp," Blaine said. He glanced at Kurt over the rims of his sunglasses. "Babe, that was a joke."

"Don't 'babe' me," Kurt muttered.

Blaine sighed and pulled the jeep into a small shopping plaza. "See, this is why I needed time to prepare," he said. He parked in front of a shop and got out of the car. "Come on. We're going to talk about this."

"I would rather not," Kurt said. "Right now I would just prefer sulking."

Blaine held out his hand. "You can multitask," he said. "You can sulk over some frozen yogurt."

Kurt sat up. "And you won't judge about how many toppings I pick?" he said.

"Not a bit," Blaine promised. He opened and closed his hand. "Come on."

Kurt slid out of the jeep and walked into the shop, pointedly ignoring Blaine's outstretched hand. He continued to ignore Blaine until he had filled his cup with Hershey's Kisses chocolate, York peppermint patty, and French vanilla frozen yogurt, then dumped two kinds of sprinkles, M&Ms, strawberries, and a dollop of whipped cream on top.

Blaine waited from him at the register, his sunglasses pushed up to the top of his head. "Are you going to add anything else?" he asked nonchalantly.

"You promised no judging, Anderson," Kurt said, dropping his full cup on the scale. "I am eating my feelings, and it is all your fault."

Blaine kept his mouth shut while he paid and followed Kurt to a table in the corner, his own cup of yogurt in his hands. Kurt plunked down into a seat, still scowling, and took a large bite.

"So," Blaine said. "I'm going to summer camp for eight weeks."

"I know," Kurt groused, digging around for the blue M&Ms.

Blaine scooped up a bite of his strawberry frozen yogurt. "It's the Pinnacle Heights Performing Arts Camp," he said. "Have you heard of it?"

"No," Kurt mumbled.

"It's a really exclusive camp. It's only open to students in Ohio, you have to be recommended by a teacher or a professional, you only get in by audition, and they only allow so many people in," Blaine said. "It's a big deal to have it on a resume."

"Really?" Kurt said. Jealousy was beginning to seep into his already simmering collection of emotions.

"I got to go last year, and it was amazing," Blaine said. "It really did a lot for me as a performer. And I'd really like to go back."

Kurt pouted into his frozen yogurt. "You'd rather spend the summer at camp than with me?" he said.

"Hey, now, don't do that to me," Blaine said gently. "It's not about you. I put my application in back in December. I was still subconsciously flirting with you through duets about date rape. I had no clue I was going to fall in love with you."

Kurt half smiled at that. Blaine scooted a little closer and squeezed his hand under the table. "Listen, Kurt, I would to spend the summer with you," he said softly. "Believe me. It would be amazing. But my parents really want me to go to Pinnacle this summer, and I'd kind of like to go."

Kurt stuck his spoon in his frozen yogurt and scooted towards Blaine. "But it's our first summer as boyfriends," he said.

Blaine slid his arm around his waist. "I'll write to you every day," he promised.

Kurt perked up. "You mean old fashioned handwritten letters?" he said.

"The very same," Blaine said. "I'll tell you about everything I do, and ask you about what you're up to without me, and wax poetic about how much I painfully miss you." He kissed Kurt lightly on the temple. "Does that smooth things over a little?"

"A little," Kurt admitted. "I'm still not happy about it, though."

"I understand," Blaine said. He squeezed Kurt's waist. "Will it help if I let you take me on a pre-camp shopping trip?"

"That helps," Kurt said. He picked up his spoon. "And so will this. Don't judge me, Anderson."

Blaine raised his hands in mock surrender. "I won't, I won't," he said. "It looks delicious." He took a bite of his yogurt. "So what will you do all summer without me, besides working on your musical?"

Kurt sighed, resting his chin on his hand. "The same thing I do every summer, I guess," he said. "Helping Dad in the garage. Trying out new recipes. Auditioning half-heartedly for local theater productions and praying I don't run into Rachel. Nothing puts Rachel in her over-the-top obnoxious diva mode like an audition."

Blaine laughed. "Does that happen often?" he asked.

"You don't even know," Kurt said, rolling his eyes. "I just…I like performing, but you know how community theater is. You're either in or you're not. They keep picking the same four people over and over again to be the leads. They'll never pick me for anything more than a one-line solo. Believe me. I've tried."

"Ouch," Blaine said. He elbowed Kurt lightly. "Hey, I could always get you a job at King's Island if you wanted."

Kurt shot him a glare. "No, thank you," he said. "If I must work in a theme park, it'll be a classy theme park. Like…Walt Disney World. Not King's Island."

"Point taken," Blaine said. He leaned forward and put his hand over Kurt's. "So…are you still mad at me?"

Kurt sighed heavily. "I guess not," he said. "Well, not mad. Put out, I would say."

"I deserve that," Blaine said. He squeezed Kurt's hand. "But I promise, I'll spend every waking minute with you until I leave. You can even take me shopping for everything on my packing list, and you can dress me in whatever you want."

"Ooh, that does sweeten the deal a little," Kurt teased.

Blaine brushed a drop of frozen yogurt off the tip of Kurt's nose. "So what are you doing tonight?" he asked. "We can go see Pirates of the Caribbean again and make out in the back row."

"I'd love to, but I have to take a rain check," Kurt said. "We're having an end-of-the-year party at Mr. Schue's house tonight."

"Then I will take you out tomorrow night," Blaine promised.

Kurt scraped his spoon along the bottom of his nearly empty cup. "And you might have to take me out for frozen yogurt again too," he said. "If you come back from camp and find I've gained twenty pounds, you should know I'm going to blame you."

"I will still love you," Blaine said, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

* * *

><p>Rachel picked unhappily at her slice of pizza. Mercedes nudged her lightly. "You still upset about Nationals?" she asked.<p>

Rachel sighed. "I really wanted to win, Mercedes," she said. "I had envisioned a summer full of talent agents knocking down my door and interviews for Show Choir Monthly." She set her slice of pizza back on her paper plate. "Now it's just another summer of teaching voice lessons to untalented elementary schoolers and auditioning desperately for every community theater in town."

"It won't be that bad, Rachel," Kurt said, industriously patting a napkin to the top of his slice of pizza. "Maybe this year I'll actually audition with you."

"Instead of pretending to ignore me?" Rachel said, a hint of a smile quirking her lips. Kurt grinned back.

Puck stretched across Mr. Schue's coffee table to grab another slice of pizza. "Aren't you going to spend the summer sucking face with your hobbit?" he asked.

Kurt scowled. "He is 5'8", which is perfectly acceptable for a man," he said. "And no, we won't be 'sucking face,' as you so elegantly put it." He smooshed his pizza slice violently between two napkins. "He's going to be at camp all summer."

Lauren gingerly extricated his pizza. "Honey, honey, you're squeezing all the good stuff out," she said.

"That bites, dude," Puck said sympathetically.

"Welcome to the Summer of 2011," Rachel said glumly, crossing her arms. "A summer of utter failure."

Someone knocked on the door. "I'll get it," Mr. Schue said as he passed by, crossing from the kitchen to the front door.

"Sorry we're late," Santana said, breezing past him. "Brittany got us lost."

"I told Lord Tubbington to print out a map from Google, but it was a recipe for tuna salad," Brittany explained, plunking down on the couch beside Quinn.

"Come on in, get some pizza," Mr. Schue said. He rubbed his hands together with an expression that could only be described as gleeful joy. "And everyone's here now, right?"

"Looks like it, Mr. Schue," Finn reported.

"Well, good," Mr. Schue said. He clapped his hands. "I've got a little announcement for all of you."

Rachel sat up eagerly. "Are we starting rehearsals for sectionals early?" she asked, beaming.

"Down, girl," Mercedes said, tugging her back.

"Not exactly, but it is something that's going to give us an edge for next year," Mr. Schue said. He surveyed them with all the pride of a father. "I took the liberty of sending in applications for a performing arts camp, and your letters came back yesterday. You've all be accepted."

Silence fell. "You did what now?" Artie said.

Mr. Schue blinked. "It's a performing arts camp," he said. "I sent in videos and applications for all of you, and you've been accepted. It's an intense eight-week course for specific fields of study within the performing arts." He took a stack of large envelopes from the drawer in the coffee table and handed them out. "Come on, guys, get excited! This is a big deal."

Rachel snatched her letter out of Mr. Schue's hands and ripped it open with shaking fingers. "Dear Miss Berry, it is our privilege to accept you to the Pinnacle Heights Performing Arts camp in the study of musical theater for the summer 2011 session," she read aloud. She looked up, her smile nearly splitting her face in half. "Oh my god! Musical theater! I'm going to study musical theater!"

"It's a pretty pricey camp, but they've got a good financial aid program, and there's some scholarships available too," Mr. Schue said, beaming proudly. "What do you think?"

"Oh my god," Kurt mumbled, staring at his letter, eyes wide.

"Kurt? Are you okay?" Quinn asked warily.

"You look like Lord Tubbington when he's about to cough up a hairball," Brittany mused.

Kurt scrambled out of his chair, fumbling for his phone. "Oh god, I'm going to summer camp with Blaine," he said. "Oh, god, summer camp with Blaine, summer camp with Blaine…Blaine! Blaine, hi! Guess what?"

"Well, I think he might be excited," Sam said dryly as Kurt ran into the dining room, shrieking into the phone.

Rachel kept staring at her acceptance letter. "This could be the beginning of everything," she breathed. "I have to go home and rewrite my five-year plan!"

* * *

><p>"Geez, Kurt, I know you're excited, but could you maybe slow down a little?" Finn said, holding onto the door handle of the Lincoln Navigator. "You're driving like Puck. Which is scary."<p>

"Sorry, sorry," Kurt said, bouncing up and down in the driver's seat. "I'm just so excited. You have no idea."

"No, I've got some idea," Finn grinned.

Kurt pulled into the driveway, parking crookedly, and leaped out of the car, running full-speed for the door. Finn followed him, half amused by Kurt's elation and half excited himself. He'd never been to summer camp before, just day camp at the Y. And this would be kind of cool.

"Dad! Dad! Dad!" Kurt called, flinging the front door open.

"Living room, kiddo."

Finn followed closely as Kurt ran into the living room, waving his envelope and startling both Hudson-Hummel parents. "Dad, we're going to summer camp!" he exclaimed.

"You're going to what?" Burt said.

"Honey, you look like you're about to explode," Carole said, switching off the American Choppers episode on the television. "Sit down and tell us the whole story."

Finn plunked down in the armchair, grinning as Kurt perched on the arm and launched into the tale. "…so Finn and I have both been accepted, and camp starts next month, and guess what? It's the same camp where Blaine is going!" Kurt gushed, clasping his hands as Burt flipped through the information packet.

"Oh, Finn, you got accepted?" Carole said. "In…musical theater?"

"No, no, Kurt's got musical theater, I'm in instrumental performance," Finn corrected quickly. "I guess it's for the drums."

"Well, it's nice to know that letting you bang away on that old drum kit and blast my eardrums finally paid off," Carole teased, reaching over to squeeze his knee. "I'm so proud of you, honey."

"Yeah, I'm proud of both you boys, but…I don't think it can happen this summer," Burt said reluctantly.

Kurt paled. "What? Why?" he said. "Is…is it the money? Because I know how tight money is, believe me, I know, but they have scholarships and financial aid and…"

"Scooter, listen to me," Burt said gently. "I know you want to go to this camp. I want you to go too. Sounds like you'd have fun and it'd be a big deal. But it's a couple thousand dollars, kiddo, and we've already kind of drained our bank accounts after this school year. Dalton gave us a partial refund, and if it was just one of you, we could probably manage it, but there's no way I could send two of you." Burt slid the papers back in the envelope and handed it back. "I'm real sorry, Kurt."

"It's fine," Kurt said, taking the large white envelope and folding it in half. "I know money's been tight. I'm sorry." He stuck the folder between the armrest and the cushion. "At least this gives me plenty of time to work on my musical. I think I've come up with a strong opening number. Like 'Good Morning Baltimore,' but British."

Finn frowned as he looked up at Kurt. The look on his face was making him feel slightly uncomfortable- the color had drained from his face, his lips were thin and pressed together tightly even though he was smiling, his voice has gone just the faintest bit husky. It was unsettling.

"Yeah?" Burt said gently. "You wanna give us a little sneak preview?"

"Oh, no, it's nowhere near ready yet," Kurt said, waving his hand dismissively. "But believe me, I think this could be the new Xanadu. Just without the roller skates." He paused. "Or maybe I should put the number on roller skates."

Finn frowned. Kurt sounded okay, but there was still something that wasn't quite right…

And then a vague memory filtered into his mind. He remembered Kurt acting like this a long time ago, when he and Rachel had that diva-off thing. And Kurt nailed the whole song, except for that one god-awful note, and he'd spent the rest of the day like that- pale, thin-lipped but forcing himself to smile, cracking lame attempts at jokes.

Kurt was really upset about this. Really, really upset.

And suddenly, before he could stop himself, the words just sort of spilled out.

"Kurt should go to camp."

Three heads snapped around to stare at him.. Finn shrank back a little. "Well, um, I…" he stammered. He swallowed hard. "Look, you said we could only afford for one of us to go, so why not send Kurt?"

"But that's not fair," Kurt said, shaking his head. "I shouldn't get to go if you can't."

"I think it's fair," Finn shrugged. "Sure, I want to go, but this means a lot more to you than it does to me. I don't mind staying here." He nudged Kurt lightly. "Besides, I thought you wanted to spend the summer with your boyfriend."

"Finn, are you sure about this, honey?" Carole said.

"I'm sure," Finn said. "It's cool."

He looked up to see Burt studying him with a look that could only be called fatherly pride. Finn sat up a little straighter. He'd seen Burt look at Kurt that way, but no one had ever looked at him that way before.

"Well, buddy," Burt said. "Do you want to go to camp this summer?"

Kurt was paler still, and his eyes were suspiciously red-rimmed. He opened his mouth to speak, but for a second, nothing came out. "Oh my god," he finally said. "Oh my god, Finn, I just…" He took a deep breath. "Oh my god. Thank you. Thank you, Finn. Oh my god."

He leaned forward and threw his arms around Finn's neck. "Oh my god, thank you," he said. He kissed Finn on the cheek with a loud smack. "Oh my god. I'm going to go do your laundry. Right now. Oh my god."

Kurt ran out of the living room and up the stairs. Finn settled back in the armchair, grinning a little foolishly, until he saw his mother gazing at him, her eyes suspiciously damp. "What?" he said.

"My baby is growing up," Carole sighed.

Finn shrugged awkwardly. "It just seemed like a good idea," he said.

Burt tossed the remote to Finn. "Turn that back on," he said. "I've got some ice cream hidden from Kurt in the ice maker. You want some?"

"Yeah, that'd be awesome," Finn said, turning the TV on.

Above their heads they heard the squeak of Kurt's mattress and the steady thumping of the supposedly-mature sixteen-year-old bouncing up and down. "Blaine! Blaine! I'm going to summer camp with you!" he squealed, his voice echoing through the air vents. "We're going to summer camp!"

Finn grinned at the pure joy in his brother's voice, but he couldn't help the tiny twinge of jealousy that sprang up despite himself.

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><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

And so begins my Super Awesome Summer Hiatus Extravaganza Fic! Unfortunately, I still don't know what to call it, so I'm just going to call it Extravaganza! for now.

This was born several months ago in the knowledge that OH NO THERE IS GOING TO BE A FOUR MONTH HIATUS WTF AM I GOING TO DO I JUST DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO ABOUT THIS OH OKAY I'LL WRITE SOMETHING.

So everyone's going to a performing arts summer camp. New Directions. Warblers. Some other people. Except Finn. OR IS HE?

So yeah.

I know I had a poll up on my profile asking if I should put these up in long chapters once a week or short chapters every day. I've decided to go with short daily chapters for now, just because I think that'll work better in the long run. Besides, even some of the daily chapters are going to end up really, really long. Plus, wouldn't that be a nice way to spend a hiatus? Getting a new chapter of a fic every day or every other day?

I think it'll be nice.

So yeah! I'm pretty excited. I've had the outline written up for a long time, and thankfully I predicted things well enough that I only need to do some minor tweaking! And while, yes, Kurt is my favorite character, I intend to use all of the characters we know and love- all of the New Directions kids, plus a goodly sum of Warblers. There's going to be a lot of various pairings, too.

Feel free to let me know what things you want to see- pairings, more of a particular character, songs I should use. I may or may not use them all, but I love feedback and talking to people! (Speaking of which, if you ever want to talk to me directly, the best way is through my Tumblr ask box. Totally the best way.)

So yeah! This'll be the BEST SUMMER HIATUS EVER, YOU GUYS! :D

(And also, happy 21st birthday, Chris Colfer! May you remember your drunken shenanigans in the morning, baby.


	2. Saturday, May 28th

Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, not me.

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><p>Will pulled his smoking, clanking car alongside the curb. He picked up the acceptance letter and took a deep breath. "Here goes," he said to himself.<p>

He started up the front walk to the door, running through his speech in his head. The house looked nothing like he had imagined- a square, perfectly symmetrical red brick home with painted shutters and marigolds lining the walkway and several bicycles of varying sizes propped up against the side of the garage. Honestly, he was equal parts surprised and ashamed of himself for imagining some sort of trailer park situation.

He paused at the front door, squared his shoulders, and rang the bell. It swung open almost immediately. "Hi," chirped the spunky preteen. "You selling stuff?"

"Uh…hello," Will said. "Is…is this the Karofsky house?"

"Yeah, you wanna talk to my mom?" the girl asked. She leaned back into the foyer. "Mom! There's a guy at the door!"

"No, actually, I'm…I'm not…" Will paused. "Is Dave here, by any chance?"

"Oh, yeah, he's in his room," the girl said, swinging back on the door. "Never mind, Mom, it's for Davey! Davey, some dude's at the door for you!" She leaned back towards Will, cracking her gum. "So what'd Davey do?"

Dave Karofsky ambled down the stairs. "I didn't do anything, Soph, get lost," he said. "Go annoy Jonathan." The girl rolled her eyes and disappeared. Dave walked up to the door and halted. "Mr. Schuester?"

"Uh, hi, Dave," Will said. "I, uh, didn't know you had siblings."

"Yeah, Sophia and Jonathan are younger, my brother Seth'll be back from college soon," Dave said, sticking his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. "Is this about my Spanish grade? Because I swear, I know I was late handing in my final paper, but I stuck it under your door on the last day of school and-"

"This isn't about Spanish class," Will said. "This is about glee."

Dave stiffened. "What about it?" he said.

"I was really impressed by you during the week that the football team joined glee," Will said. "You've got a great voice, you just don't know how to develop it." He held out the acceptance packet. "There's a great performing arts camp up near Cincinnati, Pinnacle Heights. I sent in applications and audition videos of all my glee kids, and I sent one in for you too. You've been accepted."

Dave stared at the packet. "I've been what?" he stammered.

"You've been accepted to performing arts summer camp," Will said. "Congratulations."

Dave shook his head. "I don't think this is a good idea, Mr. Schuester," he said. "I don't get along with…well, you know what happened at prom, and I…" He sighed. "Look, this glee thing…it just isn't for me."

"That's because you never thought it was an option before," Will said. He nudged the packet forward until Dave took it reluctantly. "You're really talented, Dave. And maybe this camp could lead you to all sorts of other possibilities."

"Maybe," Dave said doubtfully.

"You should at least think about it," Will said. He clapped Dave on the shoulder. "Well, in any case, I'll see you in Spanish class in the fall, right? Senior year."

"Yeah," Dave said. "See you then, Mr. Schue."

Will smiled and headed back down the walkway. Dave still stood in the doorway, staring at the large, slightly creased envelope like he didn't know what to do with it.

* * *

><p>Burt stared down at the papers spread across the kitchen table. He and Carole had stayed up late the night before, after the boys had gone to bed, going through their finances. They had enough money to send one of the boys to summer camp and still go on their belated honeymoon in late June. But at the same time...<p>

It just didn't seem fair to anybody. They could send both boys to camp, and he could tell his wife that they just didn't need a honeymoon. Or they could send one son to camp, and let the other son stay home while his brother had fun with all their friends for eight weeks and his parents gallivanted off to the Florida coast.

Maybe everybody should just stay home that summer. Keep things fair.

Burt sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. At the same time, though, he couldn't bear the thought of taking this away from Kurt. His kid had gone through too much. This school year had nearly killed him, with that damn heart attack and all the bullying and the transfer to a school where he didn't belong. Kurt had kept calm and carried on, just like always, but Burt Hummel knew his kid. He knew what it meant when Kurt's mouth got tight and he started picking at his fingernails. It was never good.

And with that Blaine kid, well, at least that made him happy. But even that couldn't save the whole prom fiasco. Burt would rather sit through the Sound of Music a million more times than see his kid bawl like that again.

Besides, Kurt had already paid his dues spending summer at home. Other kids went to the pool and sleepaway camp and the beach and their friends' houses for playdates. Kurt had spent every summer since his mother's death playing by himself in the office at the garage, or, when he was older, helping Burt fix cars.

Yeah, Kurt deserved a fun summer like this.

Burt picked up the phone and punched in the camp's number, frowning a little when it played a jaunty show tune instead of the normal ringing sound. It picked up quickly.

"Hello, Pinnacle Heights administrative office, this is Evangeline, how can I help you?"

He cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah, hi," he said. "My kid got accepted to your camp, so I guess I've got to pay for it."

"Sure. What's his name?"

"Kurt Hummel," he said. "His middle name's Elijah."

He crossed his arms and paced across the kitchen as the sound of keys clacked in his ear. "All right, here he is," she said. "Kurt E. Hummel, birthday April 17, 1994? Accepted for musical theater?"

"Yeah, that's him," he said.

"And you want to pay his camp tuition?' she asked.

"Yeah, that's right," he said. "I can do that by card, right?"

"Mr. Hummel, Kurt's tuition has been paid in full."

Burt choked. "He what?"

"His tuition's already been paid for," Evangeline said. "Room and board, tech fees, everything. He even has money deposited in his spending account."

"Is this…is this like a scholarship thing?" Burt stammered.

"Well, it looks like he did receive a scholarship, yes, but a separate bank account paid for everything else," Evangeline said.

Burt sagged against the kitchen counter. He could hear his boys talking loudly as they came in from their afternoon of yardwork, bickering playfully about something, he couldn't tell. Kurt hopped into the kitchen first and stopped dead in his tracks. "Oh my god, Dad, are you okay?" he demanded. "Is it your heart? Should I call an ambulance?'

"Want me to get Mom?" Finn ventured.

Burt shook his head, waving his hand to make them be quiet. "So…so you're sure he's paid for?" he said.

"Everything is in order," Evangeline reassured him.

Burt took a deep breath. His sons stared at him wide-eyed. "Then…I want to pay for my stepson," he said. "He got accepted too. His name's Finn, Finn Christopher Hudson."

He looked at the kids and grinned. There had been few times he'd seen his son struck speechless, and it was always amusing to watch. And Finn looked like you could just poke him and he'd fall over in a daze.

Burt answered all of Evangeline's questions, giving her all the information to make sure Finn was paid for. Finally she confirmed the payment and said her cheerful goodbyes; he hung up the phone and looked at the boys. "So you two finished the yard?" he said. "That was fast. Finn, did you remember to put the lawnmower away this time?"

"Dad," Kurt breathed. "Oh my god. Is Finn going to camp?"

"Did you, like, sell a kidney or something to pay for it?" Finn said. "Because you didn't have to do that. You should…you should keep it, and…"

Burt put his hands on Kurt's shoulders. "Somebody paid for you," he said. "Your tuition's covered."

Kurt covered his mouth. "Oh my god," he mumbled. "I feel like Cinderella. Oh my…oh my god…"

"Who did it?" Finn said.

"I don't know, but I would bear their children," Kurt gasped, fanning himself frantically as he sank into one of the kitchen chairs. "Oh my god."

"Since Kurt's paid up, I figured we could pay for you too," Burt said, turning to Finn. "That was a big thing you did, giving up your summer for Kurt, and I know you were pretty bummed."

"Well, yeah, but….are you sure?" Finn stammered. "Like…really?"

"Really," Burt said, grinning broadly. "You're both going to camp this summer."

"Dad, right now I am sweaty, and disgusting, and I smell like grass, but right now, I just really want to hug you," Kurt said, clasping his hands together.

Burt held out his arms and beckoned him forward. "C'mere, kiddo," he grinned.

Kurt flung his arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Burt hugged him back. Suddenly another pair of arms wrapped around them. He glanced over Kurt's shoulder to see Finn embracing them both, eyes squeezed shut. Burt patted his back.

He cleared his throat. "Okay, boys, if you've got your yard work done, you'd better clean up for dinner before your mom gets home," he said, squeezing Finn's shoulder and ruffling Kurt's hair. "Go on, get."

The boys let go of the hug and headed upstairs, Kurt already launching into his running list of "things to purchase for camp." Burt leaned back against the kitchen counter and grinned.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

HOLY. SWEET. HELL.

YOU GUYS ARE REALLY EXCITED ABOUT THIS! WHICH IS MAKING ME EXCITED ABOUT THIS! IT IS A VICIOUS CYCLE OF EXCITEMENT!

So yeah, shorter chapter today, and it'll be a few days till the next chapter, but once everyone is at camp, things will pick up quickly.

AND NOW FINN GETS TO GO TO CAMP!

BUT WHO PAID FOR KURT?

AND WILL DAVE KAROFSKY ACTUALLY GO TO SUMMER CAMP? TO SING? AND STUFF?

I am very capslocky right now. No clue why. But yes. Thank you all so, so much for all of your alerts and faves and most of all, your reviews! They are like water to a man in the desert.

So I hope you liked this chapter, and more will come soon!


	3. Saturday, June 4th

Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, not me.

* * *

><p>Kurt balked right before the automatic doors could swing open. "Can't we at least talk about this?" he wheedled.<p>

"Kurt, we have talked about this," Burt said, rolling his eyes. "You're going to camp all summer long, and we agreed no designer clothes. I am not watching you wear all that fancy stuff just to ruin."

"But I don't wear clothes from Target," Kurt whined. "It's so…so plebian."

"I don't know what that means exactly, but dude, you've got to stop blocking the doors," Finn said, rolling up his sleeves and wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist. "If you're not going to move on your own, I'll do it for you. Come on."

"Or we can put you in the cart," Carole suggested, her eyes dancing. "We can push you around the store."

"No!" Kurt shrieked, kicking at Finn. "Put me down!"

Finn lugged Kurt into the store and deposited him on his feet, with Burt and Carole blocking his means of escape. "Maybe we should put him on one of those little kid leashes," Finn teased.

"Nah, we tried that once when he was two. He knew it was humiliating and refused to move till we took it off him," Burt said. He adjusted his baseball cap. "All right, Carole. What's the game plan?"

"I took the packing list the camp suggested and tweaked it a little," she said, pulling her reading glasses and a small notebook out of her purse. "It shouldn't be too hard to get everything, but the real question is…who's going to take Kurt clothes shopping?"

"Not it, not it!" Finn said quickly, raising his hands and backing away.

Burt sighed. "I guess it's up to me," he said.

Carole smiled. "Ah, I see I'm the only one who thought of this in advance," she said. She glanced over her shoulder. "There we go. Right on schedule."

Kurt broke into a smile. "Blaine!" he exclaimed.

Blaine waved, flanked by his mother on one side and his sister on the other. "Carole had to call for reinforcements," he grinned.

"It's so nice to see you again," Blaine's mother said, reaching to hug Carole. Petite, blonde, and chirrupy, Anna Anderson still retained her Louisiana accent despite living in Ohio for the past twenty years. Both of her children took more after their father, but there was still a resemblance in the delicacy of Francey's features and Blaine's golden hazel eyes. "Is this the first year y'all have gone shopping for camp?"

"Mom, I told you like twelve times, this is Kurt's first year at Pinnacle," Francey said, rolling her eyes. "Don't mind her. She's blonde."

"Be nice, Baby," Anna said mildly. She leaned over to kiss Kurt on the cheek. "How're you doing, honey lamb?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Kurt said, kissing her back. "A little overwhelmed, but fine."

"Don't worry, I've got this camp shopping thing under control," Blaine grinned, sliding an arm around Kurt's waist.

"Yeah, well, you've been shopping with him before, you know how he is," Burt said. "Good luck. You're going to need it."

"Here's a list to remind you of what to look for," Carole said, tearing out a sheet of notebook paper and handing it to Kurt. "And you know what your budget is, right?"

"I've got it," Kurt said.

Anna patted Blaine's cheek. "I'll be with your sister, precious darling," she said. "Call me if you need us or you get lost, all right?"

"I'll be fine, Mama," he said. "Have fun shopping with Francey."

"Oh, come on, I'm a delight," Francey scoffed.

"Wait, are you going to camp too?" Finn said, frowning. "But…you're old, right?"

"I am a sophomore in college," she corrected. "And I'm not a camper. I'm a junior counselor."

"And she won't tell me what cabin she's in," Blaine said, elbowing her.

"I told you,, it's going to be a surprise," Francey said, shoving him back.

"Baby, Babbie, stop it," Anna scolded, physically separating them with surprising ease. "You two boys go on ahead."

"We'll see you in a bit," Blaine said, taking Kurt by the hand.

Kurt grinned. "So your sister's going to be at camp with you all summer?" he teased.

"Yeah," Blaine said. "I hope to God she's not in my cabin." He tugged on Kurt's hand. "Come on. Let's get you dressed for camp."

"I don't see why everyone's insisting that I get new clothes for camp," Kurt complained. "My wardrobe is fantastic."

"Yes, it is, but it's all expensive designer stuff," Blaine reminded him gently. "You don't want to take that to camp."

"Why not?" Kurt grumbled, flicking angrily through a rack of plaid button up shirts.

"Because camp is outside, for the most part," Blaine said. "There is mud, and grass, and creek water, and insects, and it's hot. Now, just imagine…you're at camp, and you're wearing your white skinnies with your Doc Martens and your Marc Jacobs jacket."

Kurt's eyes widened. "Oh my god," he said. "I never thought I'd say this, but….Blaine, dress me."

Blaine laughed. "Let's start with shorts. You're going to need them," he said, tugging Kurt towards a rack festooned with a myriad of cargo shorts, all in various shades of khaki.

"But…but I can wear boots with them, right?" Kurt said.

"Don't worry, babe, we'll get into the wonderful world of sneakers in a minute," Blaine grinned. Kurt gulped audibly. He picked a pair of shorts off the rack and held them up to Kurt's waist. "Hm, that looks about your size. God, why are you so tiny?"

Kurt stared down at the shorts. "Why are there so many pockets on these things?" he asked.

"They're useful for holding things," Blaine said dryly, draping the shorts over his arm. "Okay, so you have to try these on. What do you think of denim shorts?"

"No," Kurt said flatly. "No. I would rather die before I put on a pair of jorts."

"Jorts?"

"Jean shorts."

Blaine laughed. "All right, jorts are out," he said. "What about these plaid ones?"

Kurt scrutinized them carefully. "They could be worse," he said. "But I'm not going to even consider the orange ones."

"Fair enough," Blaine said, picking up a pair of blue and brown plaid shorts. "Do you see anything else you like?"

Kurt sighed. "It's not a question of liking, Blaine," he said. "It's a question of what will be less painful to wear."

Blaine leaned over and kissed Kurt lightly on the cheek. "It won't be that bad," he reassured him. "Besides, a lot of the time you'll be in your cabin shirt like everyone else."

Kurt wrinkled his nose. "My what?"

"See, everyone is put into a different cabin based on what they're studying," Blaine said, rifling through a rack of clothes. "And each cabin has their own color. We do a lot of individual study with our cabins in the mornings, so everyone wears their camp shirts. But you can change into whatever you want for free time."

"Wait, what's my color?" Kurt asked.

"I'm pretty sure it's purple, if I remember correctly," Blaine said.

Kurt relaxed. "Oh good," he said. "I look good in purple."

"That you do," Blaine grinned. They paused behind a rack of jeans to steal a kiss, lingering just a little as they hid from prying eyes. Blaine pulled back a little with a goofy smile playing on his lips, his hand still resting on Kurt's hip. "What should we look at next?"

Kurt smirked. "Well, I do need swim trunks, don't I?" he said.

Blaine coughed. "Uh…well…all right, then," he said.

Kurt breezed over to the rack and started flipping through them. "Oh…these are all so long," he said mournfully. "I like my swim trunks short…"

"All right, now you're just teasing me on purpose," Blaine said, swatting playfully at Kurt's butt. "Don't be mean."

"Seriously, though," Kurt said, holding up a pair and surveying it critically. "I think I might have to break out my sewing machine for some of these."

"You do whatever you'd like with them," Blaine said. "I'd rather you customized a lot of inexpensive Target things than take your nice designer things to camp and have them get ruined."

"You're very thoughtful," Kurt said, squeezing Blaine's fingertips. "What do you think of these?"

"I like them," Blaine said. He paused. "This wasn't a test, was it? You weren't holding up something ugly to see if I would notice?"

"No, I really do like these," Kurt smiled, tucking them under his arm. "You know, for common folk clothing. Should I go start trying things on?"

"I think that's an excellent plan," Blaine said. "Here, I'll stand outside the dressing room and wait. You can show me everything."

"Mm, that sounds naughty," Kurt teased. He took the clothes from Blaine's arms and flounced towards the dressing rooms.

"That's…that's not fair," Blaine protested.

Kurt disappeared into the dressing room while Blaine loitered near the doors. "Blaine?"

"Uh-huh?"

"I'm not coming out."

Blaine hid a smile. "Why not?" he asked.

"I look terrible."

"I'm sure you look fine."

"I look like a middle schooler."

"Just come out."

The door swung open and Kurt peeked out reluctantly. He wore a pair of khaki cargo shorts with his designer top, the waistband drooping around his hips. "I told you I look terrible," he said. "My body was not meant for this."

"Actually, you look…you look pretty adorable," Blaine admitted.

Kurt's ears turned pink. "Adorable, in mass-produced shorts with enough pockets for twelve people?" he said.

"Uh-huh," Blaine said.

Kurt tugged on the belt loops. "Well, maybe I can get these…" he said.

"I think you should," Blaine offered. "Now…go try on those swim trunks?"

Kurt smirked. "Yes, dear," he said, skipping back into his dressing room.

By the time they finished, Kurt had amassed several pairs of shorts, some tee shirts (mostly chosen by Blaine), a pair of swim trunks, and a new pair of sneakers that, while they didn't even come close to Kurt's usual standards in footwear, were deemed wearable for camp.

"I think this is good," Blaine said, draping the tee shirts over his arm.

Kurt sighed. "I can't believe I have to wear these things," he said. "Can't I bring anything nice?"

"Well, Sundays are free days, so I suppose you can wear something a little more exciting then," Blaine grinned. "Besides, we do have a few dress up events."

Kurt perked. "Dress up?"

"Oh, yeah," Blaine said. "Like the luau. And the hoedown. Oh! I forgot about the hoedown."

Kurt blanched. "A…a hoedown?" he repeated. "And I'm supposed to dress up for it?"

"Oh, it's fun," Blaine said. "You know. Plaid shirts and overalls and stuff. And the luau's great too. Last year I had this _crazy _Hawaiian shirt, it had all these hula girls on it and-"

"Blaine Anderson," Kurt said slowly, his eyebrows drawing down. "It is bad enough that I'm forced to wear things of this nature all summer." He shook his handful of hangers for emphasis. "But if you're going to make me wear oversized tacky tourist shirts or anything with a John Deere logo, you are sorely mistaken, sir."

"Fine, fine," Blaine said, squeezing his arm around Kurt's waist. "But you'll at least dress up a little bit? Just so I don't look stupid?" He squeezed his arm a little tighter. "Because you do realize that I'm going to ask you to be my date for all of these events."

Kurt smiled. "Oh, I'm sure I can come up with some kind of compromise," he said loftily.

They rounded the corner and nearly walked into their respective families. Finn was staring at a tube of toothpaste. "I don't remember if he likes peppermint or spearmint," he said. He held the box high above his head. "Kurt, do you like peppermint or spearmint?"

"Peppermint," he said, dumping his clothing choices in the shopping cart. "Spearmint is disgusting."

"Ha! Called it!" Finn said, tossing the box in after the clothes.

"How did the shopping go, blue eyes?" Carole asked.

"Oh, it was fine," Kurt said. "I'm not used to shopping at a big box store, but we made do."

"I think we found everything he needed, and we stayed under the budget," Blaine said.

Burt clapped a hand on Blaine's shoulder. "Son, you need to stick around," he said. "This is the first time somebody took Kurt shopping and it didn't end in tears, a shouting match, or blood."

"That was only one time, Dad!" Kurt exclaimed.

Francey stuck her head out of a nearby aisle. "Ugh, I'm never going shopping with him," she said. "Hey, Blaine, catch."

A box of tampons soared through the air and smacked Blaine in the face. "Oh, jeez, seriously, Frances?" he said, tossing them back. "Grow up."

"Babbie's allergic to lady parts," Francey snickered.

Anna frowned. "Frances Meghan, don't tease your brother," she scolded. She unfolded her list and scanned. "Carole, honey, I don't know about you, but I think I'm almost done."

"It looks like we're good," Carole said.

"Thank God, let's go home," Burt said.

Suddenly a familiar, frantic, high-pitched voice spiraled upwards from further down the aisle. "Daddy, _no, _I _need _it, I need it!"

"Oh my god, Hurricane Berry approaches," Kurt said. Finn paled and stepped behind Carole; she reached up and patted his cheek.

Rachel barreled down the aisle, both of her fathers at her heels. "No, I told you, I'm out of gold star stickers," she said. "I need more."

"Rae Rae, baby, you have boxes of star stickers at home," her ginger-haired father said with a weary sigh.

"No, she's right, Hiram," Rachel's other father said. "She could use a new pack for camp."

Rachel was so intent on her quest that she nearly barreled into Blaine, stopping short just in time. "Oh! Blaine Warbler!" she exclaimed.

Francey snickered. "Blaine Warbler…"

"Hi, Rachel," Blaine said, pointedly ignoring his sister. "Shopping for camp."

"Buying out the store for camp is more like it," Kurt said, eying her overflowing shopping cart.

"I want to make the most of this summer," she said. "I need to be prepared." She paused and turned to the others. "Hi, Kurt. Hi, Finn. Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Hummel. Hello…"

"Oh, you can call me Mrs. Warbler if you want, it's awful cute," Anna chirped. "I'm Blaine's mama, sugar doll."

"Nice to meet you," Rachel said. "These are my dads, Hiram and Leroy. Daddy, Papa, this is-"

"We've gathered, baby girl," Hiram interrupted gently.

Leroy snapped his fingers. "Blaine Warbler! Rae Rae, is this the vaguely Eurasian boy you tried to seduce?" he said.

"Papa, now is not the time!" Rachel hissed as Blaine turned bright red. She turned back to the group. "Well, I'll…leave you to your shopping." Her smile suddenly brightened to distinctly hopeful. "So I'll see you at camp, Finn?"

"Uh…yeah," Finn stammered.

The hope in Rachel's smile migrated into megawatt joy. "Then I will see you there," she said. "This will be the best summer ever!"

Burt watched her skip towards the marker aisle, her fathers dutifully in tow. "That girl has more mood swings than should be physically possible," he said.

Francey grinned fiendishly. "God, I hope that girl's in my cabin," she said. "I would love to just mess with that mind of hers…"

Blaine turned on her. "Francey, how on earth did you possibly get a job at this camp?" he said.

She shrugged. "Charm and charisma, I suppose."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

A shorter, slightly slow chapter, but necessary for the build-up to camp. Besides, don't lie...Kurt and Blaine shopping together at Target is an adorable mental image.

I hope you guys are still interested in this story! I'm trying to write as far ahead as I can, and the next chapter is going to be FUN. The next part will post on next Saturday, and that's when our illustrious crew will arrive at Pinnacle Heights! Will Karofsky be there? Whose cabin will Francey be in? How is everyone getting to camp?

And for the angry people, especially for the charming young lady who left a delightfully nasty review: _of course _this is entirely improbable. An exclusive performing arts camp that's audition only? And somehow everyone from New Directions gets in? And Karofsky is accepted? Of course it's improbable! That's what makes it fun!

And yeah, I know how entirely realistic and grounded the Glee episodes are, and I...WAIT LOL NOPE. GLEE IS SO NOT REALISTIC.

I have no delusions of grandeur, my dears. I'm just an average nerdy Glee fan like everyone else, whiling away the hiatus by writing a super fun summer camp story that'll stretch from now till August. Now, what's the problem with that?

Anyways, darling people, I hope you're having fun. Drop a line in my tumblr ask box if you want to chat!


	4. Saturday, June 11th

Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, not me.

* * *

><p>"Finn."<p>

"Mmrph."

"Finn."

"Mmmmmmmmway."

"Finn." A firm hand on his shoulder joined the insistent voice. "Finn, honey, you've got to get up. The guys are going to be here soon."

Finn bolted upright. "Guys?" he mumbled blearily.

"Yes, honey, you're leaving for camp today," Carole said. She smoothed his untidy bedhead. "It's already past ten. Go take a shower. They'll be here in about an hour."

He pushed back the covers and stumbled out of bed in the general direction of the shower. Morning were never Finn's strong suit, but he woke up fast enough as the warm water pounded his back and he remembered that today was the day to leave for camp. His stomach knotted a bit as he dried off and dressed, his insides caught in equal parts of excitement and anxiety. This was most likely going to be the biggest, scariest, most awesome summer of his life.

He shuffled down the stairs to find Kurt already sitting at the kitchen table, aimlessly picking at a bowl of cereal. "Morning," Finn said, fumbling around the pantry for the Cinnamon Toast Crunch. "Hey, do you know where the-"

Kurt nudged the box across the table. Finn plunked down beside him and poured a huge bowl. "So, you excited?" he asked, his mouth full.

Kurt shrugged. His mouth was pulled into a thin frown and his eyes were ringed in dark circles. "Didn't get any sleep last night?" he asked sympathetically. Kurt just shrugged again.

Burt walked into the kitchen. "Morning, Finn," he said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Kurt, buddy, you'd better get a move on if you want to get to Dalton on time."

"Wait, what?" Finn said, spitting a little bit of milk and chewed-up cereal back into the bowl. "Why're you going up to Dalton?"

"All the Warblers and Larks who get accepted ride up together," Kurt explained. "I'm riding with them. Since…you know, Blaine."

"Oh," Finn said.

Burt patted Kurt's back. "Get it in gear, kiddo," he said before heading back towards the living room. Kurt's mouth drew tighter and his chin wobbled a little bit.

The light bulb went on in Finn's head. He scooted a little closer. "Dude," he whispered. "Are you homesick already? We haven't even left home."

Kurt's white cheeks flushed red. "I haven't…the longest time I've ever been away from home was when we went to Nationals," he said. He dug his spoon through his cereal bowl but didn't eat anything. "I just…my dad…"

"It's just for eight weeks," Finn offered helpfully, but apparently his efforts were not as helpful as he had hoped. Kurt shoved his bowl to the side and silently got up from the table. Finn sighed.

He had finished his bowl of cereal and moved onto Kurt's when his brother walked back into the kitchen, fully dressed with a duffel bag slung across his shoulders. "Sorry, I ate your breakfast," Finn said.

Kurt shrugged. "It's fine," he said.

Carole walked into the kitchen, smiling brightly. "Dad's loading your things in the truck," she said. She rubbed Kurt's upper arms. "Are you ready to go, blue eyes?" He nodded, his mouth tightening again, and Carole pulled him into a hug. "It's going to be okay, sweetheart. This'll be a great summer. I promise."

Finn ducked his head, watching the last flakes of cereal swim around his bowl. Apparently Kurt's impending homesickness was contagious.

Burt strode into the kitchen, adjusting his baseball cap. "You ready to go, Kurt?" he asked. Kurt stepped back a little from Carole's embrace and nodded. She rubbed his back lightly. "Come on, scooter, we'd better get a move on."

Kurt leaned in and kissed Carole on the cheek, then shouldered his bag and slipped out the door. Burt put his hand on Finn's shoulder. "You'll, uh…you'll keep an eye on your brother, right?" he said.

"Totally," Finn said. "All the time." He stood up hastily, his chair screeching as it skidded across the floor, and hugged Burt.

Burt hugged him back, his hand against Finn's back. "We'll miss you, bud," he said. "Have fun this summer. Make good choices."

"I will," Finn mumbled.

Burt clapped him on the shoulder. "We'll see you in August, all right?" he said. He gave Finn one last fatherly squeeze on the arm, kissed Carole, and headed out the door after Kurt.

Carole sighed. "Go get your stuff together, brown eyes," she said. "The boys'll be here soon."

Finn obeyed, heading upstairs to gather the rest of his things together. Kurt had spent the past week packing meticulously, writing out long lists and folding everything precisely and rearranging the contents of his suitcases over and over again. Finn, on the other hand, would have waited to throw a few things in a bag the night before had not Kurt gotten frustrated with packing his own things and moved on to his.

Before long he could hear the thumping of a car stereo outside his window. "Finn, honey? The guys are here," his mom called.

He grabbed his bags and took the stairs two at a time. Puck was waiting in the kitchen, his hands in his pockets. "Finn, dude, get the lead out," he said. "We've got a summer camp to crash."

Finn shoved his bags in Puck's hands and turned to his mother. "Bye, Mom," he said, hugging her tightly.

"Have fun, honey," she said, hugging him back and petting his hair. "Remember to write to us, all right?"

"I will," he said. She kissed him on the cheek and released him from the hug with one last pat on the back. "See you later."

"Bye, Mrs. H," Puck said.

"Bye, Noah," she said. "Be safe. Call us when you get there."

"Will do," Puck said. Finn grinned one last time at his mom and headed out the front door after Puck.

Mike sat at the driver's seat of his teal minivan, bopping his hands merrily on the steering wheel to the beat of the music. "Morning, Finn," he said cheerfully.

"Chang, stop being a morning person," Artie groused from the passenger's seat. Mike pouted.

Puck opened the back hatch and shoved Finn's stuff inside. "Come on, come on, let's go," he said, slamming the door down.

Finn clambered inside and plunked down beside a half asleep Sam. "Hey, dude," he said. Sam grunted noncommittally, face buried deep in the pillow he had propped against the window.

"Let's do this thing!" Puck said, shutting the minivan door.

"Seatbelts first," Mike said.

"But-"

"Seatbelts, Puckerman!"

Puck scowled. "This is such a boner-killer," he complained as he clicked his belt. "Riding in a minivan…turns out we brought the soccer mom too."

"Hey, this minivan is awesome," Mike said, expertly navigating away from the curb. "Besides, the other options were Finn's pickup or your mom's station wagon."

Puck sank down in his seat. "Shut up and drive, Chang," he said.

* * *

><p>Kurt sighed, his forehead tipping to touch the cool glass of the window. Blaine nudged him lightly. "Hey," he whispered, his breath soft against Kurt's neck. "Are you all right?"<p>

"I'm fine," Kurt sighed.

Blaine rubbed his arm lightly, his skin cool from the bus's heavy air conditioning. "Are you homesick?" he whispered.

"No," Kurt said, drawing his knees up and sinking into his plush seat.

Blaine smiled and kissed the top of his head. He didn't say anything, but Kurt's ears turned red. It was pretty obvious to everyone and their mother that he had been homesick before he'd even gotten on the bus. "Are you cold?" Blaine asked instead.

Kurt nodded. Blaine unfolded himself from his seat and pulled a red print fleece blanket down from the overhead rack, then sat down beside Kurt and draped it around both of them. "Better?" Blaine asked. Kurt sighed again and nodded, resting his head against Blaine's shoulder as the bus swayed beneath them.

Lucy leaned around the seat in front of them. "Hi, boys," she said. "Having fun?"

"As much fun as you can have on a long bus ride," Blaine said.

She picked up a plastic ziplock bag and shook it lightly. "Well, I brought snacks if you want them," she said.

From the back of the bus, Jeff and Nick popped up like prairie dogs. "Oh my god! Lucy brought cookies!" Jeff said.

"Jeff, get me some!" Nick said.

"Cookies? I'll take a couple," Flint called.

"No, no, I'm the boyfriend, I get dibs," David said, climbing over the crowded center aisle.

"Well, I'm the…boyfriend of the best friend, so I get dibs too," Wes said.

"And…I'm…on the council, so dibs for me too!" Thad exclaimed.

Kurt laughed as Lucy suddenly found herself surrounded by excited Warblers. "I hope your brought enough for everyone," he said.

Jo emerged from her blanket cocoon beside Lucy. "She stayed up till three in the morning baking," she croaked.

"I was too excited to sleep!" Lucy said happily, placing a few cookies in Trent's outstretched hands. "I have chocolate chip, oatmeal chocolate chip, half chocolate chip and butterscotch chip, and gingersnaps."

"I knew I kept you around for a reason," David said, grabbing one of each.

Lucy wrinkled her nose. "Everyone just uses me for my cookies, don't they," she said.

Dylan ruffled her hair. "Aw, no, we love you," he said.

"But we _really _love your cookies," Nathaniel added.

Jo glared at the people clustered around her seat. "Can you guys sit down and shut up? I'm trying to sleep," she said.

"Yeah, don't mess with Jo, she's a bear when she's tired," a fellow Lark piped up. Jo shot her a fierce stare until the Lark clamped her lips shut and sat down.

Wes rummaged through his DVD wallet. "We can watch a movie," he suggested. "Anyone want to watch a movie?" He frowned. "Jo, did you replace all of my movies with yours?"

"I just wasn't in the mood to watch the Bourne trilogy or those fast and angry car movies," Jo said.

Wes sighed. "Fast and Furious, Jo, it's Fast and Furious," he said. "All right, it looks like we have…Princess Bride and…every Disney princess movie ever made."

"Oh my god, can we watch Tangled?" Jeff shrieked.

"No, Jeff!" Wes said. "We're watching Beauty and the Beast."

"What about Little Mermaid?" Kurt called.

"Later, Hummel. Right now we're watching Beauty and the Beast."

Blaine tucked an arm around Kurt's shoulders. "Well, we still know all the words to that one," he said.

Kurt burrowed closer as the movie blinked onto the little screen above their heads. "I want to sing Belle's parts this time," he said. "You always hog them."

"That's because you never let me sing for Ariel," Blaine pointed out.

"It's only because you're a better Sebastian than I am," Kurt said.

Jo leaned over them. "Shut up, my movie's on," she threatened.

"Yes, ma'am," Blaine said meekly. Kurt laughed silently into his shoulder until Blaine pinched his nose.

* * *

><p>Mercedes navigated her SUV onto the off ramp. "This is it, y'all, we're almost there," she said cheerfully.<p>

"Thank God," Santana huffed as she jammed her nail file back in her purse. "If I have to spend another hour in this car with Rachel Berry, I'll have to kill something."

"Well, you aren't really a delightful car companion either," Rachel shot back from her seat in the back, squished between Tina and Quinn.

"Yes, well, at least Santana didn't sing under her breath for the entire ride like someone else we know," Quinn said, rolling her eyes. Rachel sat back in a huff.

Lauren fiddled with the radio knobs. "No signal," she said, switching it off. "Anyone have any cell service?"

"Nope," Tina said. "Not a hint of a bar."

Santana leaned back against the seat, folding her arms across her chest. "Why did I agree to this?" she asked. "A whole summer with no cell, no internet, no radio, no nothing, just…show tunes."

"I don't mind show tunes," Brittany offered. She paused. "Oh. I think I forgot to tell my little sister to feed Lord Tubbington while I'm gone." She shrugged. "Maybe he can just go on a diet this summer." Santana patted her knee lightly.

Mercedes grinned. "Oh, this is it!" she said. She turned the SUV onto a long winding drive. "Pinnacle Heights, we're here!"

Rachel clasped her hands. "This summer is going to look fantastic on my resume," she sad.

"I'm just glad to be out of the house for the summer," Tina said, reaching down to feel around for her discarded shoes. "My parents are going crazy with the college applications. They want me to do all of the early acceptance stuff, but I totally don't want to think about it."

"I've had my college picked out since freshman year," Lauren said as she picked idly at her fingernails. "They've been beating down my door with wrestling scholarships since day one."

"Well, we can't all be superstar wrestlers, can't we?" Quinn snapped.

Mercedes drove down the winding path while the others bickered until she reached a small parking lot roped off with brightly colored plastic pennants. A camp staff member in khaki shorts and a sky blue polo shirt strode over to them as she pulled up. "Hey, there," he said. "Y'all made it just in time for registration. Just pull out your luggage so we can take it up to your cabins and head on up to the amphitheater."

"Thanks," Mercedes said, easing her SUV into a parking space. "All right, ladies, you heard the man. Everybody out."

The girls piled out of the car and dragged their suitcases and duffel bags out of the back. "God, it's like playing jenga back here," Santana huffed.

"Just get your stuff and quit whining, Lopez," Lauren said, hefting her bags easily.

Mercedes dropped her bags into the pile next to Rachel's matched set of polka dot luggage and followed the rest of the girls down the path leading away from the parking lot. "It's so nice here," Brittany commented, gazing at their surroundings.

"There's too much nature," Tina said, sliding on a pair of sunglasses. "Why couldn't we go to camp in New York City?"

"Do they not have nature there?" Brittany questioned.

Rachel sighed happily. "I miss the city," she said. "I have to face it, girls, I was born to be a city girl."

"Good for you," Quinn said.

"Look, you guys, I know you're all still stir-crazy from being trapped in the car, but can't we all cheer up?" Mercedes said. They rounded a curve in the path and headed right into the thick of a small crowd. She brightened and waved as she caught sight of Kurt at the entrance to the outdoor amphitheater, his hand still held securely in Blaine's. "There's Kurt! Hey, Kurt!"

Kurt waved back, elbowing Blaine, who glanced in their direction and waved too. "Aw, look how cute they are," Tina cooed.

Lauren put one hand on the back of Tina's head and the other on Brittany's. "Come on, keep it up," she said.

Mercedes surveyed the crowd. Six tables were set up at the edge of the square, each one festooned with a different colored banner. "Well," she said. "I guess this where we all separate."

Rachel pulled her camp information packet out of her bag and unfolded it carefully. "According to the schedule, we have registration and then dinner," she said. "We're with our cabins only until tomorrow."

The girls stared at each other. "Oh god, did we even see if any of us are in the same cabins?" Tina said.

They fumbled for their packets. Santana grabbed Brittany's and sighed in relief. "Britt and I are both dance," she said.

Quinn glanced over Mercedes' shoulder, then Tina's. "Tina and I are both drama,' she said.

"And that's all," Mercedes said.

The girls surveyed each other. "See you tomorrow?" Rachel offered.

"Maybe we can have breakfast together or something," Mercedes suggested.

Brittany frowned. "Oh, it's not that scary, you guys," Lauren said. "Go make new friends. New Directions is too co-dependent as it is." She shouldered her bag. "See ya."

"Yeah, come on, Britt," Santana said, taking Brittany by the hand and dragging her towards the green table.

"Where are we coming to?" Brittany asked.

Quinn scanned the tables. "We should probably get this over with," she said. "Want to head over, Tina?"

"Well, ladies, this is a pleasure."

Mercedes turned around slowly as Rachel's eyes widened. "Jesse?" she sputtered.

Jesse St. James flashed a smile at them. "Fancy seeing you here," he said. "Welcome to Pinnacle."

Tina's lips thinned. "Rachel would ask it, but I think she's speechless. What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Don't tell me you've never heard of a summer job," Jesse said, still grinning like a cat that had gotten into cream.

"You're working here? As what, a maintenance man?" Mercedes scoffed.

"I'm afraid not. I'm a junior counselor," Jesse said.

"You…you're a…you're a what?" Rachel said.

He slid his hands in his back pockets. "A junior counselor," he said. "I don't suppose any of you are in the musical theatre cabin, are you?"

Rachel's eyes widened even further. "Oh, hell no," Mercedes said. "Didn't they run a background check on you or something?"

"They just saw my resume and hired me on the spot," Jesse shrugged. He smiled at Rachel. "I'm looking forward to spending the summer with you, Rachel."

He strode off towards the purple-emblazoned table. Rachel stared after him, mouth open.

"Well, this summer certainly just got a little more interesting," Quinn remarked.

* * *

><p>Artie rolled up to the registration table. "I think I'm in the right spot," he said.<p>

The stocky guy in the orange tee shirt glanced up. "Are you in theatre tech?" he asked. "What's your name?"

"Arthur Abrams?" he offered.

The counselor dug through a pile of paperwork and pulled out an information packet. "Welcome to the Orange Iguanas, Arthur," he said. "I'm Darby, I'll be your head counselor for the summer. What's your specialization?"

Artie shook the hand Darby offered. "I go by Artie," he said. "I'm light and sound, mostly, but I've been known to rig a few special effects in my time."

"Awesome, dude, awesome," Darby said. He had that Colorado hipster look about him; Artie half expected him to start talking about skiing and indie bands. "We just got another girl who does sound."

Artie glanced over. Lauren Zises raised a hand. "Hey, Wheels, how's it going?" she asked.

"Pretty good," Artie said, balancing his packet on his knees and rolling over to her. "How was the car ride?"

"Besides Rachel singing the whole way and Santana threatening to get carsick all over her? Pretty good," Lauren shrugged. "You?"

"I'm glad Mike was driving and not Puck," Artie said.

Lauren nodded sagely. "He doesn't always remember which pedal is the brake," she mused. "So are we the only New Directions kids in this cabin?"

"Looks like it's just us, girl," Artie said. He glanced around. "There's a lot more people here than I thought."

"The arts kids are coming out of the woodwork, apparently," Lauren said. "Two of Kurt's prep school friends are here too." She pointed at a blond guy happily chatting the ear off a slightly bored-looking brunet. "The tall one's Flint, the yappy one is…Josh, I think. Or Jeff or something."

"How many people are supposed to be here?" Artie wondered aloud.

"There's usually about thirty kids per cabin, sometimes up to forty."

They turned around to find a girl in a Pinnacle Heights tee shirt and bobbed blue hair behind them, arms folded across her chest. "I think we've got twenty-seven in tech this year," she informed them.

"Good to know, random eavesdropper," Lauren said.

She tucked a strand of bright blue hair behind her ear and stuck out a skinny hand, her bangle bracelets jingling on her wrist. "I'm Knickey Reeves," she said. "Knickey with a K. Don't bother asking my real name, it _is_ my real name."

"I'm Lauren, this is Artie, and you weird me out a little," Lauren said, ignoring the outstretched hand.

Knickey shrugged. "My social skills aren't the best," she said. "But I know everything about this camp, so you'd better get used to me being around."

"Is this like your fourth year here or something?" Artie asked.

Knickey pointed across the crowd to a tall graying man deep in conversation with someone's parents, dressed far more formally than the other counselors. "That's Alexander Reeves, the camp director," she said. "Also known as my grandfather."

Lauren suddenly smiled and linked her arm through Knickey's. "Hey there, kid, you just got a new best friend," she said.

* * *

><p>Mike slung one arm around Santana's shoulders and the other around Brittany's as they followed their new camp counselors down the pathway. "Hi ladies," he said. "Are you excited to be here?"<p>

"I'd be more excited if it wasn't so damn humid," Santana said, slinging Mike's arm away. "God, it's Ohio. Why is it so hot?"

"Doesn't it always get hot in the summer?" Brittany said. "Unless you're in Australia. Isn't it supposed to be cold in Australia in the summer?"

"Stop talking about cold things," Santana complained.

"Well, hopefully the cafeteria will be air conditioned," Mike said.

The tall black boy walking ahead of them glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, don't worry, it is," he said with a grin. "Is this your first time here?"

"Is that obvious?" Mike asked.

"Everyone spends their first few days wandering around without a clue, but once the routine starts on Monday, you'll be a pro," he said. He slowed enough for them to catch up. "I'm David. This is Nick."

"I'm Mike Chang," he said cheerfully. "And this is Santana and Brittany."

Brittany smiled at David and Nick. "Look, Mike, now you're not the only boy dancer," she said.

Nick snapped his fingers. "Now I know why you guys look so familiar," he said. "You're from McKinley, right? You did 'Valerie'."

Santana tossed her long hair over her shoulder. "Damn right, we did," she said.

"We're from Dalton," David said. "That number was fantastic. I think vocally we were stronger than you, but your dancing was just amazing. No wonder we tied."

"Who did your choreography?" Nick asked.

"Brittany and I, mostly," Mike said.

Nick held the door of the cafeteria open for them; Santana stepped inside first and breathed deeply. "Oh, thank God, it feels like the arctic," she sighed.

"So what kind of training do you have?" Nick asked as they lined up for dinner behind the noisy Orange Iguanas.

"Ballet and cheerleading, mostly," Brittany said. "A little bit of jazz. And also, clogging."

"About the same, without the clogging," Santana said, crossing her arms.

Mike shrugged. "I'm mostly self-taught, I guess," he said. "I watch a lot of music videos."

"Impressive," David said. "So you're just naturally talented."

Mike shrugged again; the self-conscious feeling crawling up his backbone was making him uncomfortable. "I just want to dance," he said.

"I wish the Warblers just wanted to dance," Nick sighed. "If we have to do another step-hop-snap routine, I'll die. Just die."

"You won't die," David said, bopping Nick lightly on the shoulder with a dinner tray before handing it to Brittany. "And our choreography is fine."

"I don't think it counts as choreography," Nick countered.

Mike laughed, relieved to have the conversation turn, and handed Santana a tray.

* * *

><p>Tina took an experimental bite of her pasta. "This is pretty good," she said, surprised.<p>

"Definitely better than McKinley," Quinn added.

The dark haired boy sitting across from them scowled at his dinner. "It's not as good as Dalton," he groused.

The blond boy at his right elbowed him lightly. "That's because you're an elitist, Thad, and nothing is ever as good as Dalton to you," he said.

"Don't mock me, Nathaniel," Thad warned, raising his fork. Nathaniel raised his hands in surrender, hiding a grin.

Tina tore off a bit of her garlic bread. "So you're Thad and Nathaniel, I'm guessing?" she said.

"Guilty as charged," Thad said. "You?"

"Tina," she said. "This is Quinn." Quinn offered a brief smile.

"Welcome to the Red Jaguars," Thad said. "We are overdramatic and proud of it."

"So is this…what, your fourth year here?" Quinn asked.

"It's his third, my first," Nathaniel offered. "I'm just as lost as you guys." He tilted his head to the side. "And apparently as lost as she is."

Tina glanced over her shoulder. A petite girl wandered aimlessly through the cafeteria, her hand tangled in the curling ends of her long dark hair. She wandered over to their table, biting her lip. "Um, excuse me?" she ventured to the counselors chatting at the end of the table. "Is…is this the drama group?"

"It is, are you Zooey Gellar?" one of the counselors said. "I knew we were missing one."

"I'm sorry I'm so late, our car broke down," she apologized.

"Oh, it's fine, it's fine," the counselor said, waving her hand. "I'm Gemma, I'll be your head counselor this summer. Take a seat. We're not doing much tonight, just eating dinner and getting settled in the cabins."

Zooey sat down next to Nathaniel, who smiled kindly at her. She flushed pink and ducked her head. "What are we doing tomorrow?" Thad asked.

"Tomorrow's going to be pretty low-key," Gemma said, ruffling her curly brown hair over her shoulder. "We'll have some orientation sessions to get you prepared for auditions on Monday, but mostly we'll just let you have a lot of free time."

"Auditions?" Tina said, wrinkling her nose. "I hate auditions."

"Well, see, this is sort of how the camp goes," Gemma said. "Every Monday we announce the scene selections we're doing for the end-of-week performances and we hold the auditions. All week you attend workshops and work on your parts with us. Then on Saturday, the whole camp does a big show where everyone gets to perform for the rest of the camp."

"Sounds hardcore," Nathaniel commented.

"Oh, it is," Gemma said. "But nothing as crazy as the final week. See, for the final week, the camp directors choose the best performances of the summer for the last show. That's the big one that all of your parents and teachers from home come to see. It's a pretty big deal. Everyone wants one of their performances to be chosen."

Tina took a thoughtful bite of her pasta, envisioning herself onstage in a scene from a classic play, her parents and friends watching her in rapture. _We never knew you were so talented, _she could hear them saying. _Tina, you're amazing._

"Tina?"

She blinked. "Hm?"

Quinn waved a pudding cup in front of her. "You almost stuck your elbow in this," she said.

"Oh," Tina said sheepishly.

* * *

><p>"This summer is going to be awesome," Puck said, leaning back in his seat. "If we get to eat like this every night, I'll be a happy camper. Literally."<p>

"A fat, happy camper," Sam commented.

Puck tossed him another slice of garlic bread. "Just eat it, Evans," he said. Sam shrugged and took a bite.

"You know, it's pretty cool that we're all in the same cabin," Finn said, surveying their table.

"Instrumental performance for the win," Sam said cheerfully.

"So we've got guitar for me, guitar for Evans, and drums for Hudson," Puck said. "What else do we got?"

He turned to the girl sitting next to him. "So what do you play?" he asked.

She glanced up from her book, clearly irritated. "What?"

"What do you play?" he repeated.

"Piano," she said, turning back to her book.

"You have a name?" he pestered.

She glanced up, her straight hair falling against her shoulder like a yellow curtain. "Yes," she said flatly, and turned back to her book. Sam snickered. Puck rolled his eyes.

"That's what you get for trying to make friends," Sam teased.

A curly-haired little boy popped up on Sam's other side, startling him into dropping his fork. "Hi!" he said. "I'm Teddy, Teddy Cooper. I play the violin, mostly."

"I'm Puck," Puck grinned. "The blond one who just peed himself is Sam, and this is Finn."

Teddy's round brown eyes widened further. "Finn! Are you Kurt's Finn? Are you Kurt's big brother?" he asked.

"Uh…yeah, I guess," Finn said.

"My big brother Dylan is a Warbler," Teddy said proudly. "I'm best friends with all the Warblers. I'm going to be a Warbler in the fall."

"Are you in high school?" Sam stammered. "You're like…ten."

"I'm twelve!" Teddy said cheerfully. "I'm going into the ninth grade in the fall, though, because I'm super smart and I skipped some grades." He leaned across the table and rested his chin on his hands. "Gosh, you guys are so big. I hope I'll grow up and be big."

Puck looked down at him. "Why do I have the feeling you're going to drive me nuts all summer?" he remarked.

Teddy suddenly sat up, like a puppy that spotted a squirrel. "Blaine! Blaine! Hi, Blaine!" he said. He turned to Sam. "Blaine's a Warbler like my brother."

"Yeah, I know," Sam said, amused.

Blaine, however, did not look amused. "'Sup, hobbit," Puck said. "Who pissed in your cereal?"

"Finn, we've got to talk," Blaine said.

"About what?" Finn asked, sitting up. "Is Kurt okay?"

Blaine leaned forward, bracing his hands on the table. "Karofsky's here," he said.

"No way, dude, you're making that up," Puck said. "Why the hell would he be at a summer camp for artsy stuff?"

Blaine pointed across the noisy cafeteria at another table, where Dave Karofsky sat by himself at the end, hunched over his dinner tray. "And he's in my cabin," he said, his voice tight.

"Is Kurt gonna be okay?" Puck asked. Teddy leaned over his shoulder to listen in; Puck planted a hand on his forehead and pushed him back down. "Should we put together a security detail?"

"He's in a different cabin," Blaine said. "I just thought I should let you guys know. Keep an eye on him."

"Definitely," Finn said, glaring at Karofsky across the room.

"Who are we mad at?" Teddy chirped.

"Pipe down, squirt," Puck said.

* * *

><p>"This is going to be the worst summer ever," Rachel fumed. "First Jesse shows up, no doubt to try to rekindle some kind of flame, which is ridiculous because, <em>hello<em>, he's supposed to be a counselor, and then Karofsky just _waltzes _in for no apparent reason, and now, _this_." She gestured broadly at the blonde counselor leading the way to their cabin. "Why on earth is Holly Holiday our head counselor? She doesn't have any real qualifications! I suppose she just sweet-talked her way into this too."

Her tirade was largely ignored. Lucy squeezed Kurt's hand insted. "What are you thinking?" she asked.

"I don't know," Kurt sighed. "I was thinking about how I really, really wanted to have a nice peaceful summer, and…Karofsky." He bit his lip. "I don't know whether to be scared because I don't know if he's going to give up and just snap, or stressed because I'm supposed to help him…" His voice trailed off and he looked down at Lucy. "Well, you know."

"You're not expected to do anything," Lucy said. "You're not Karofsky's babysitter. And besides, you've got Blaine and Mercedes in the same cabin as Karofsky. You know they won't let anything happen."

"I know," Kurt said. "But still. It's just…unnecessary pressure."

"Don't worry about it," Rachel reassured him, linking her arm through his as they walked down the darkening path. "Just focus on all of the amazing performances we'll be doing this summer."

Kurt smiled. "That does cheer me up a little," he said.

They stopped outside a large cabin on a ridge overlooking the lake. Their counselors stood on the top step of the porch and Holly grinned down at them. "All right, boys and girls," she said. "Welcome to your home for the next eight weeks."

Rachel followed the herd inside. The main room of the cabin was open and airy, filled with large rustic pieces of furniture, and their luggage was heaped in the center of the room. A flight of stairs led to a loft, and there was a door on either side. "Counselors are upstairs," Holly said. "Boys to the right, girls to the left, and bathrooms to the back. Now get your stuff and pick your beds!"

Rachel scrambled forward to snatch up her suitcases. A big guy she vaguely recognized from Kurt's Warbler friends leaned over and got them first. "Here you go," he said. "You're Rachel, right?"

"Rachel Berry," she said, hefting her suitcase and smiling in thanks. "And you are?"

"Dylan Cooper," he said. "Also known as the Dalton beatboxer." He grinned. "And that's Trent."

Trent and Kurt were currently in a heated discussion about their bunk situation. "I want the bottom bunk," Trent was arguing.

"No, I want it," Kurt said. "I sleepwalk. I'm sure you've heard stories around the Dalton dorms. If I slept on a top bunk-" He gestured to demonstrate plummeting from a great height, complete with a whoosh noise. "Do you really want to explain my death to Blaine?"

"Oh," Trent said. "I suppose I can take the top, then…"

Rachel turned to Lucy. "Since you're the only girl I know in the cabin, we have to be bunkmates," she announced.

Lucy paused as she leaned down to pick up a suitcase. "Oh…okay, then," she said. "I call bottom bunk, though."

Rachel opened her mouth to argue, then paused as she saw Jesse glance her way from his seat with the other counselors. "Come on," she said, grabbing Lucy by the hand and dragging her into the girl's side of the cabin.

* * *

><p>Blaine grabbed his pajamas and disappeared into the bathroom. Wes glanced at him in the mirror, toothpaste foam dribbling down his chin. "Still mad, are we?" he mumbled.<p>

"I can't believe Karofsky's here," Blaine muttered viciously, dropping his pajamas on the long bench outside the row of shower stalls.

Wes tilted his head to the side. "He's the guy that made Kurt's life miserable at McKinley, right?" he said.

"Miserable is putting it mildly," Blaine said, tugging his tee shirt over his head. "I'm so pissed, Wes. "

Wes spat his toothpaste into the sink. "I gathered that," he said. "Anything we should do?"

"Just make sure he stays away from Kurt," he said. "I wish we could catch him doing something that'll get him kicked out of camp, but I don't want to put Kurt in harm's way."

The bathroom door swung open. "Hey, boys, lights out in twenty," Francey said cheerfully.

Blaine hastily covered himself with his pajama shirt. "God, Francey, I could have been naked!" he shrieked.

She shrugged. "Like I haven't seen that before," she said.

"Why the hell did they let you be my counselor?" he grumbled, yanking his pajama shirt on. "Aren't there rules against that?"

"Apparently not," Francey said, plunking down on the bench outside the showers.

"Aren't there rules about you being in the boys' bathroom?" Blaine said.

She tilted her head back. "I'm in charge, Babbie. I make the rules now. You're my bitch." She laughed maniacally. "My bitch!"

"This is going to be an interesting summer," Wes remarked. Blaine rolled his eyes and chucked his dirty tee shirt onto Wes's head.

Francey pulled up her legs to sit Indian-style. "Seriously, though, what's got you so tweaked, babe?" she asked. "You've got that wrinkle between your eyebrows going on."

Blaine sighed as he shimmied out of his jeans. "Okay, you know that Dave guy?" he said.

Francey tilted her head to the side. "The big guy that no one talks to? The one that you made a big show of picking the bed furthest from his?" she said. "Yeah, I know of him."

Blaine dropped his jeans on Francey's lap and pulled his flannel pajama pants on. "He's the guy that tormented Kurt at McKinley," he said. He looked Francey in the eyes. "You know what I mean."

Francey looked puzzled for a moment, then her green-gold eyes widened. "Oh, god, he was the one that…oh my god," she said.

Wes frowned and dropped his toothbrush in his shaving kit. "Why do I get the feeling you're not telling me everything?" he said.

"Because it's personal," Blaine said. "Kurt still doesn't know that Francey knows about…what happened."

"All you need to know is that it was bad, Wesley," Francey said. "God. I'll kill him myself. He won't last the summer."

"Let me get in a few punches," Blaine said.

The door swung open and the head counselor peeked in. "Everyone decent?" she said.

"We're all good, Shelby," Wes said.

Shelby stepped into the bathroom. "It's just about lights out, boys. You should get into bed," she said. She gave Francey a funny look. "What are you doing in the boys' bathroom?"

"Making sure my little brother didn't fall in the potty," Francey said, unfolding from the bench. She kissed Blaine lightly on the cheek. "Night, Wesley. Night, Babbie."

"Night, Frances," he said.

"Goodnight," Wes said, gathering up his things. "You know, Blaine, we've only been at camp for a few hours, and the drama has already started. This is shaping up to be an interesting summer."

Blaine sighed. "I hope we can survive it," he said.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

DEAR SWEET MERCIFUL GOODNESS, WHY IS THIS CHAPTER SO LONG?

Seriously, it's 13 pages in my word processor. THIRTEEN.

In any case, this is one of those slow yet important chapters. Now you know who's in each cabin and who the counselors are and who's studying what! There's about 30-40 kids per cabin, plus five or counselors, but there's enough people running around as it is, so you probably won't meet every single person at the camp.

And to make your lives easier, here's a handy dandy little chart!

**Camp Directors: **Alexander Reeves, Evangeline Medford

**Orange Iguanas (Technical Theater): **Flint Fitzgerald (Luke Edgemon), Jeff Wiser (Riker Lynch), Artie Abrams, Lauren Zises, Knickey Reeves (counselor: Darby Hodges)

**Green Monkeys (Dance): **David Barnes (Titus Makin Jr.), Nick Montgomery (Curt Mega), Santana Lopez, Brittany S. Pierce, Mike Chang (counselor: Lesley McAllister)

**Red Jaguars (Drama): **Thaddeus J. Thornton (Eddy Martin), Nathaniel Gray (Aaron Page), Quinn Fabray, Tina Cohen-Chang, Zooey Gellar (counselor: Gemma Lyndon)

**Blue Barracudas (Instrumental Performance): **Noah Puckerman, Sam Evans, Finn Hudson, Teddy Cooper, Annabel Roberts (counselor: Brandon Webler)

**Purple Parrots (Musical Theater): **Dylan Cooper (Jon Hall), Trent Alcott (Dominic Barnes), Kurt Hummel, Rachel Berry, Lucy Trevelyan (counselor: Holly Holiday; junior counselor: Jesse St. James)

**Silver Snakes (Vocal Performance): **Wes Chang (Telly Leung), Blaine Anderson, Dave Karofsky, Mercedes Jones, Jo Neely (counselor: Shelby Corcoran; junior counselor: Francey Anderson)

Overwhelming, isn't it? But don't worry. The new OCs aren't going to overtake the story or anything; they're there mostly to flesh things out and make it seem like there are kids other than New Directions and the Warblers at this camp (although, let's face, that's all we care about...)

Also...I don't really know how to phrase this, but...yes, I am using Karofsky in this story. I'd be stupid to not write him in. It's interesting. Am I going to suddenly turn him into Kurt's best friend? Or boyfriend? Or make everybody suddenly love him? No. So please, if you've ever read my writing, you know you can trust me to not write stupid. Karofsky's plotline in this story is more personal growth than anything else.

But now, my dears, we are getting into the daily updates! Yay! Hopefully I won't get too far behind.

Also, the next chapter concerns mostly with the new campers sort of exploring the camp. Any characters in particular you'd like to see for tomorrow's chapter? Or pairings?

I've got to say this is a great writing exercise. Some of these characters I've never written outside of a couple of throwaway lines in a group scene, so it's really interesting to write this story!

I hope you liked this chapter! Tell me what you think!


	5. Sunday, June 12th

Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, not me.

* * *

><p>Lucy yawned hugely. "Oh, why can't we sleep in?" she sighed. "It's Sunday. I want to sleep in."<p>

"I know," Kurt said, his voice still raspy from drowsiness and his eyes at half mast. "Ugh. Sleep. I want it."

They walked down the path from their cabin towards the dining hall, the morning air still cool. Rachel bounded ahead of them, nearly skipping. "Did you know there's a vocal studio?" she said. "And it's open all day for anyone who wants to practice. I'm going to go. We should go. After all, we have auditions for our first scenes tomorrow, and I, for one, intend to get a lead."

"Bite me," Lucy said sleepily. "I intend to take a nap in a hammock."

"Ooh, they have those?" Kurt said. "Remind me to tell Blaine."

Lucy nudged him lightly. "Speaking of Blaine," she said, pointing further down the path.

Kurt perked up. "Blaine!" he called.

Blaine paused, letting his group get ahead while he waited. "Good morning," he grinned.

Kurt kissed him lightly. "Hi," he said.

"You can continue the googly eyes over breakfast," Lucy said, propelling them forward to catch up with Blaine's cabin. "Let's go. I want a bagel."

"Good morning, Blaine," Rachel said. "I'm trying to get them to come to the vocal studio with me. I want to be prepared for the first auditions tomorrow. Do you know what they're going to look for?"

"Rachel?"

Rachel stopped dead in her tracks. "Mom?" she said, her eyes lighting up. The vocal performance counselor smiled widely at her.

Blaine looked from Rachel to Shelby and back. "I'm a little confused," he said.

Kurt linked his fingers through Blaine's. "I'll explain," he said. "It's a very long story involving Lady Gaga and a covert spy operation."

"Well, I'm intrigued," Blaine remarked.

* * *

><p>Finn surveyed the dining hall with wide eyes. "Oh my god," he said. "There's…there's so much food."<p>

"They don't skimp at Pinnacle. For some reason they think that feeding a performer makes them want to work harder."

He turned around to see Jesse standing behind him in his yellow counselor's hoodie. "Oh, uh…hi, Jesse," Finn said. "You, uh…you going to get pancakes too?"

"I don't eat anything with flour," Jessie said. He picked up a tray and handed it to Finn. "You enjoy those pancakes, though."

Finn blinked, then sheepishly picked up a small pancake. "You're…you're not still mad about me kissing Rachel at Nationals, are you?" he said.

"I don't know," Jesse said coolly, selecting a fresh fruit cup from the buffet line. "Have you and Rachel started dating again?"

"We haven't really talked about it," Finn stammered. "I mean, we kind of…well, we've sort of been kissing and stuff, but we haven't talked about being boyfriend and girlfriend again…"

"Then yes, I am mad," Jesse said. He looked up from his fruit cup and smiled at Finn, a smile with all of his teeth showing. "I hope you realize that I didn't take this idiotic summer camp job just to add it to my resume." He paused. "Well, I mean, I did, but I also have every intention of winning Rachel back from you. She's the only woman I've ever met who can keep up with me vocally." His wolf-like smile widened. "So enjoy her while you can."

Jesse examined his fruit cup critically, set it down, and walked away. Finn glared in his general direction and picked up the biggest pancake he could grab.

* * *

><p>Quinn pulled the door open and glanced around. The front room was open and cool, the walls covered with thick spongy material. She stepped inside and trailed her fingers over the egg-crate feeling, her clean white Ked sneakers making tiny tapping sounds on the hardwood floor.<p>

The small building was silent and peaceful, a welcome relief from the noise of the cafeteria she had just left. She walked down a narrow hallway and found herself facing half a dozen closed doors, their narrow windows darkened. Experimentally, she peeked inside the nearest door; it was a tiny square with a small window and an upright piano.

"Exploring?"

She turned sharply. "I was just-"

The tall blond smiled. "Everybody does," he said. "First time at camp?"

"Yes, it is," she said, smiling stiffly.

He grinned down at her. "What cabin are you in?" he asked.

"Drama," she said.

"Oh, so you'll spend most of your time at the black box theater," he said. "The vocal and instrumental performance guys basically live in here. Dance has their own studio, the techies have a tech shop, and musical theater usually gets the mainstage."

"Do you just know everything about this camp?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He blushed a little. "I've, uh, just been here a lot, this is my third year," he said. He stuck out a hand. "I'm Dylan."

"Quinn Fabray," she said, taking his hand.

He shook it gently. "Nice to meet you," he said. "Were you going to practice? I was just going to-"

She pulled her hand back and shook her head. "I have to go," she said, and she slipped out of the studio before he could say anything else.

* * *

><p>"Why are we here?" Wes whined. "We should be rehearsing."<p>

"Sundays are not rehearsing days, Wesley," Jo said, tugging at his hand. "Sundays are fun days."

Lucy skipped up the steps and pulled the screen door open. "You've been to camp with us, you know how we roll," she said.

David followed her into the arts and crafts cabin. "You have to make me a bracelet first, Lu," he said.

"I'm making one for me," she objected as she pulled out the box of embroidery floss. "I'll make you one after I finish mine."

"But Lu," David whined. He wrapped his arms around her waist and snuggled his face into her shoulder. "Lulu, make me one."

"Say no," Jo ordered. "Just because he calls you 'Lulu' doesn't mean you have to do what he wants."

"But it's so cute," Lucy wavered. She held up two different skeins of embroidery floss. "Do you want a blue or green friendship bracelet?"

"Yellow!" David said promptly.

Jo rolled her eyes. "Such a pushover," she said.

Wes stretched out on a bench and draped his forearm over his eyes. "I'm going to take a nap," he announced. "Wake me up when we're not at Girl Scout camp anymore."

Jo sat on him.

* * *

><p>Puck glared across the sports field. "Dude, we were here first," he said.<p>

The blond and the brunet glared right back. "No, sir, I believe we had dibs," the brunet said..

"Yeah, totally dibs," the blond echoed.

Sam frowned. "Look, guys, we're more than happy to share, but we've got to run some of our conditioning drills," he said. "We've got to get right back to football when the summer's over."

"Same for us," the brunet objected. "We're on Dalton's soccer team. Undefeated since 1978."

"Then it seems we're at an impasse," Sam said.

"Yeah, what he said," Puck added.

They stared each other down for what seemed like an eon, a football tucked under Sam's arm and a soccer ball bouncing under the brunet's impatiently tapping foot.

"Hey, Nick, Jeff!" a voice called.

The blond straightened. "What, Trent?" he called.

Trent waved a neon orange disc in the air. "I've got a Frisbee!" he singsonged.

Puck grinned. "What if we challenge you to a game of ultimate Frisbee?" he asked.

Nick held out a hand. "You're on, sir," he said. "Trent, you're on our team!"

"I'm on it," Trent said, tossing the Frisbee in Puck's direction as Sam tossed the football aside.

* * *

><p>"Oh my god, I feel like I never see you," Tina sighed, slipping her arms around Mike's waist.<p>

He kissed the top of her head. "We're just in different cabins," he said as he hugged her tightly and guided her into the cafeteria. "We'll have plenty of time together this summer."

She bit her lip as he propelled her gently forward into the dining hall line. "Do you think we made the right decision coming here?" she ventured.

"Sure," he said. "Mr. Schue worked hard to get all of our applications in, and this'll look super awesome when we start applying to colleges."

"Well, I know that, but…" She glanced up at him as she picked up a tray and handed it to him. "They take this all so seriously. Some of the girls in my cabin started talking about shows they've been, and they were rattling off plays I've never even heard of. One girl has been in twenty shows, and she's a sophomore. And me?" She shrugged as she picked a sandwich off the line. "I was in a production of Rocky Horror Picture Show that was completely illegal and didn't even perform for an audience."

Mike did a doubletake. "Rocky Horror was illegal?" he asked.

"Apparently you have to pay publishing companies for performance rights, and not only did we not pay, but no one even has performance rights for Rocky Horror," she informed him.

Mike raised and lowered one shoulder before grabbing a bag of chips for each of them. "Well, it's not the experience that matters, baby, it's the talent and the drive," he said. "You want to be a performer, right?"

"Of course," she said.

He kissed the tip of her nose. "Then it doesn't matter if you've been in one show or a hundred," he said. "All that matters is that you're talented and you want this."

She smiled at him. "You always say just the right things," she said.

"Well, I try," he said. "Ooh, look they have pudding. Mm. I'm getting vanilla."

* * *

><p>"Brittany," Santana said, treading water in exasperation. "We go to the pool all the time. Get in here."<p>

Brittany sat on the dock, arms wrapped tight around a piling, and dipped her toe in. "I don't like swimming in lakes," she said. "Stuff nibbles at me, and I get seaweed wrapped around my ankles, and it's muddy."

Santana propelled back a little bit, the cool water splashing over her shoulders. "But it's nice in here," she wheedled. "It's so hot out and the water feels freaking awesome."

"Santana, fish poop in that water," Brittany said. "Right now you are swimming in a giant fish toilet. There is fish poop in your hair."

Santana blinked. "God, Brittany, that's nasty," she said. "Don't think about it and get in here."

Brittany turned around to look at several of the girl counselors, lined up at the lake's edge on their towels. "Would you swim in a fish toilet?" she asked.

"I've dealt with worse in my time, honey," Holly said, not bothering to raise her sunglasses.

Gemma looked up from her book. "Nope," she said. "It's gross."

Francey rolled onto her stomach and hopped off her blanket. "Shoot, I don't care," she said. "It's hot as hell out here."

She swooped her long dark curls into a ponytail as she strolled down to the dock, then took a running leap and dove in with a whoop, splashing both Santana and Brittany. Santana laughed and Brittany shrieked.

Francey bobbed out of the water, sputtering a little as she pushed her wet curls. "Damn, that was awesome," she said. She held out a hand. "Come on, kiddo. I'll teach you how to do a handstand underwater."

Brittany sighed and inched a little closer to the edge of the dock. "Will the contaminated water give me mutant powers?" she asked.

"Yes," Francey said solemnly.

Brittany scooted to the very edge of the dock and dropped into the water. Santana grinned as she waded towards them. "See? It's not so bad," she said.

"If something bites me, I'm going to bite you for making me come in here," Brittany warned them.

"Fair enough," Francey shrugged.

* * *

><p>Mercedes toyed with the tab on her soda can, idly surveying the camp from the porch of the snack shop as she rested her chin on her hand.<p>

"Hey, pretty girl. You lonely?"

She straightened up and smiled. "Not anymore," she said, scooting over to make room.

"How's your day been?"

Sam plopped down beside her and stretched his legs out on an empty chair. "Puck and I played a killer tournament of ultimate Frisbee with a couple of those Dalton dudes," he said. "For private school boys, they sure gave us a run for our money."

"This coming from a former private school boy," she teased.

Sam sighed, dropping his sunglasses down over his eyes. "Yeah, I remember those days," his voice holding just the faintest trace of bitterness.

She rubbed his shoulder with one hand. "I'm sorry," she said. "You talk to Stevie and Stacie yet today?"

"Yeah, just a quick call," he said. "It sucks that our only link to the outside world is a couple of payphones."

"It's kind of nice to be off the grid, though," she said. She leaned her head on his shoulder. "A whole summer without Facebook, or Twitter-"

"Or Tumblr," Sam said. "God, I hope I put enough in my queue to keep things going till I get back."

She raised an eyebrow. "You really did not just say that," she said.

He shrugged. "If you had a tumblr, you'd understand," he said. "It's a lifestyle choice. Running my tumblr is hard work."

She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her Coke. "Yeah, because it's so tiring to run 'effyeahavatarmemes'," she teased.

He grinned and lowered his sunglasses. "Oh, come on, I'm a god on Tumblr," he said.

"Your internet popularity is not the reason I'm dating you," she said.

His smile widened. "Remind me again why we're dating?" he offered. She leaned in and pecked him lightly on the lips. "Ah. That was it."

She laughed as he leaned in for a real kiss, then paused. "Uh…hi?" Mercedes said.

A skinny girl with a blue ponytail regarded them with interest, a smoothie cup in her hand. "Oh, y'all dating?" she asked.

Sam scrambled back, nearly tipping his chair over, as Mercedes slid away gracefully. "Uh, no, no…we're-"

"We're Tumblr friends," Mercedes said.

"Yeah, Tumblr, it's…we're all really close," Sam said.

The girl took a long, noisy drag on her straw. "Oh," she said. "Well, then. Enjoy yourselves."

She wandered away. Mercedes let out the breath she'd been holding. "Geez, Sam, either we've got to come clean about this, or we've got to be more subtle," she said. She turned to find Sam grinning foolishly at her. "Oh, god. Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You said we were Tumblr friends," he said. "You're going to make a Tumblr and follow me."

"Oh hell to the no," she said. "I have too much to do to get sucked into Tumblr."

"Come on, you'll love it," he coaxed.

"No. No. Stop it, Samuel. Don't you puppy-eyes me, I'll just do it right back."

* * *

><p>"So what are we doing?" Kurt questioned.<p>

Blaine shouldered his folded blanket and smiled. "Every Sunday night, they show a movie," he said. "When the weather's bad they show it in the big theater, but on nights like this, they project it on the on the wall out here."

"Ah," Kurt said. He linked his fingers through Blaine's as they navigated the other campers lounging on blankets and beach towels and fold-out chairs, the cool grass tickling his bare ankles lightly. The evening was just dark enough for the sky to turn a soft chambray blue, and fireflies were beginning to flicker faintly. The air smelled like bonfire smoke and new-mown grass and the clean soapy scent clinging to Blaine's freshly washed hair, and Kurt took a deep, contented breath.

Blaine paused at an empty spot and flapped the fleece printed blanket over the grass. "Your seat for the evening, dear sir," he said, gesturing broadly.

"Thank you," Kurt said. He sat down on the soft thick blanket and stretched out his legs; Blaine curled up beside him. "So, tell me. What do I have to look forward tomorrow?"

"First auditions," Blaine said. "We'll spend most of the day preparing, audition for our cabin counselors before dinner, and they'll announce the roles before we go to bed. And of course there'll be workshops, and we'll probably take turns going up to the ropes course to do team building exercises."

"Sounds thrilling," Kurt remarked.

Blaine kissed the side of his neck. "It'll be awesome," he reassured him.

Kurt kissed him back. "Sh, the movie's starting," he said.

A hush settled over the assembled campers as the opening credits to The Sound of Music began to roll. "They usually play this one at the beginning the summer," Blaine said, scooting down to lay his head on Kurt's knees. "It's just so iconic."

"This is one of my favorites," Kurt murmured, leaning back and tangling his fingers in Blaine's damp curls.

Blaine kissed the inner curve of Kurt's knee, lips soft against his skin. "I know," he said.

Kurt hummed along with the overture, smiling as he watched Blaine watch the movie, golden brown eyes focused and lips slightly parted. "Love you," he said.

"Love you too," Blaine said, smiling.

They watched Maria twirl across the screen, arms wide in her joy as she sang, and for once Kurt knew what she felt like.

* * *

><p>"All right, kids, I know you're still hyper and wired because it's the first day of camp, but we've got a lot of work to do tomorrow," Shelby called. "Let's turn the noise to a dull roar, shall we?"<p>

"Lights out in forty, rugrats," Francey hollered.

The sound level in the cabin could only be described as deafening. Campers spilled over the furniture and floor of the common room, chatting and playing card games. One enterprising guy had pulled out a guitar. From the girls' side he could hear echoes of feminine shrieks, about cute boys and promises to straighten each other's hair in the morning and whose underwear is that on the shower floor?

He pushed open the door to the boys' side and headed for his bunk. A couple of guys were sprawled out on their bunks, reading or flipping through their camp schedules or getting their stuff together for showers. He passed by Kurt's boyfriend, seated on his top bunk with that Asian guy next to him, chatting avidly. Kurt's boyfriend looked up as he passed by, a flash of something vaguely upsetting crossing his features.

He turned his head away sharply. All night he'd sat through that stupid musical, grass itching at his skin while he watched Kurt and his boyfriend sit together on their shared blanket, blissfully peaceful, without anyone harassing them or mocking them or even giving them a doubletake.

It made his stomach hurt.

He picked up his stuff and headed towards the bathrooms. A few other guys were in there, brushing their teeth or shaving. One of them glanced up and offered him sort of a smile, kind of a "hey, dude whose in my cabin but whose name I don't know, what's up?" smile.

He ignored him, gritting his teeth tightly as he headed into the nearest empty bathroom stall. His stomach still hurt and he flipped down the toilet lid and sank down, dropping his head in his hands.

_I shouldn't have come here, _Dave thought unhappily. _I don't belong here. I should've just gone to football camp again._

But he remembered that brief week back in January when he sang with that stupid glee club, remembered the Spanish teacher and the silent pianist coaching him through a few scales and songs as they tested his vocal range to see what part he should sing, remembered the first time he hit a note and sustained it, actually held it out and felt the power in his voice and the strange overwhelming feeling that _I didn't know I could do this, but I can, I can. Maybe there's more to me than I thought._

He would give anything to get that feeling back. Even if it meant enduring eight weeks of Kurt's boyfriend glaring at him across the room.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

This was supposed to be a nice short chapter. LOL NOPE.

But you sort of got a glimpse of what the camp is like and see what everyone's up to. I hope everyone's favorite characters popped up in here! Everyone is going to figure into the plot, though, except for the OCs. Well, Francey, Jo, and Lucy will have some of their own plotlines, but that's because I've been writing them for forever, it feels like. Teddy, Knickey, Annabel, Zooey, and the various counselors will only appear when they're needed, or if people actually like them and want to see more of them. And then they'll still only show up at appropriate junctures.

I also want to mention this briefly, since I've gotten a lot of questions about it! Kurt's not scared of Karofsky. He's just frustrated that Karofsky is here to complicate his perfect summer. He doesn't know if he's supposed to avoid him, or talk to him and pretend nothing ever happened, or try to be his gay Yoda or something. It's a very complicated, uncomfortable suituation, when all he wanted to do was sing showtunes and make out with Blaine in a hammock for eight weeks. And also Finn and Blaine (mostly Finn) are in the "super unnecessary over protective modes!" which annoys Kurt just a wee bit. He's an independent guy, he doesn't need to be babysat.

But anyways. I'm slightly behind on this chapter, so there'll probably two tomorrow! I hope you're looking forward to it!

And as always, if you want to chat with me, my tumblr name is redbullandcupcakebatter. Drop me a line if you'd like!


	6. Monday, June 13th

Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, not me.

* * *

><p>Rachel sat up straight in her seat in the outdoor amphitheatre, her heart racing. <em>This is it, <em>she thought. _My first audition for the summer._

She scanned the campers in the seats around her, checking out her competition. The other girls were all bright-eyed and waiting patiently too, all silent as they watched the counselors chat conspiratorially and anticipated the announcement of the scenes.

"All right, you guys, I know you're excited," Holly said. Rachel scooted to the edge of the seat, hands knotted together. Kurt perked up beside her, his eyes bright. "We're going to go ahead and announce the scene selections we've chosen. Now, remember, you're going to sign up for the parts you want to audition for and you'll get your sixteen-bar cuts to rehearse. Auditions will be after lunch." She nudged the counselor next to her. "All right, lay it on them."

The counselor picked up a sheet of paper. "'There's No Business Like Show Business' from Annie Get Your Gun'," she read. "'If I Loved You' from Carousel. 'Waitin' For Me Dearie' from Brigadoon. 'Sit Down, You're Rockin' the Boat' from Guys and Dolls. 'People Will Say We're In Love' from Oklahoma. 'Get Me To the Church On Time'…"

A thrill ran up Rachel's spine. They chose a scene from Oklahoma. One of Laurey's scenes. _I was born to play Laurey, _she thought. _That's been one of my dream roles since I was two._

She leaned over to Kurt. "I'm going to audition for the Oklahoma scene," she whispered.

"Sh!" he said, waving his hand at her, eyes focused on the counselors.

Rachel sat back in her seat, smiling widely as she drummed her fingers on the armrests of her seat. _I'm going to get that part_, she said. _It's practically mine already._

* * *

><p>The chirpy little dance counselor clapped her hands. "All right, boys and girls," Lesley singsong to the campers scattered over the grass. "We're going to play a fun little game that'll help you all act more like a team! Isn't that nice?"<p>

Santana leaned over to Brittany. "I'm going to stuff her scrunchie down her throat if she keeps this up," she whispered. Brittany giggled behind her hand.

Lesley glared. "No one talks while I talk!" she said. Brittany silenced mid-giggle. Lesley smiled. "Now, boys and girls, I want all of you to stand up and get into three groups of ten.

Santana grabbed Brittany by the arm and dragged her over to Mike. "Hey, what's up, Asian?" she said.

Mike frowned. "Aren't we supposed to be with people we don't know all that well?" he said. "Isn't that the whole point?"

"Nope," David said. "Not if they're doing the exercise I think we're doing."

Nick paled. "Oh god, not the amoeba!" he said.

"Oh yeah, the amoeba," David said.

"Isn't that where Nemo the fish lives?" Brittany offered.

"Anemone, Britty," Santana corrected. "So what are you guys freaking out about?"

Nick pointed to the first group. They stood together in a tight cluster, and Lesley was tying a thick rope around them. "We have to walk up the hill like that," he said darkly.

"That's insane," Santana said. "I'm not doing this."

Brittany straightened her ponytail. "It looks like fun," she shrugged.

"See, the whole point of this is to get us moving as one group," David said. "And usually people freak out. The people in the middle get trampled, and the people on the outside have the rope digging into them."

Mike brightened. "Well, then why don't we count off our steps?" he said. "If we all move at the same time, it should be fine!"

"Easier said than done," Nick said.

"I'll count it off," Mike said. He raised up on his toes. "Trying to teach New Directions to dance is kind of like getting an amoeba to walk. It shouldn't be that hard."

David clapped him on the back. "Then get to the front and take the lead," he said.

"Be brave," Nick said solemnly.

Lesley waltzed over to them with a rope in hand. "Ready?" she said.

Santana glanced over at the first group waddling up the hill, lumbering sideways. Nick swallowed hard. "We're ready," Mike said.

"If anyone steps on me, they'll be breathing out of their ears," Santana threatened.

* * *

><p>"What's wrong with the dancers?" Mercedes snickered.<p>

Wes grinned as he watched the bedraggled campers in their bright green shirts drag themselves across the cafeteria and plunk down at their table. "Ah, team building exercises," he said.

Mercedes tilted her head. "They do it in the first week of camp," Jo explained, adjusting the headband in her blond bobbed hair. "They take each cabin out one at a time to do team building stuff. So we can work together and all that jazz."

"We'll be up there at some point this week," Wes said. He poked Blaine in the ribs. "Anderson. The line moved. Stop looking for Kurt and keep moving."

Blaine blinked. "Huh?"

Jo rolled her eyes and propelled him forward. "Keep going, babe," she said.

Blaine looked over his shoulder. "Have we seen anybody in purple?" he asked.

"You know how seriously the musical theater kids take their auditions," Wes said. "They'll probably be practicing in the studio all through lunch."

Blaine sighed. "I haven't seen Kurt since breakfast," he said. "I don't even know what part he's auditioning for."

"He'll be fine," Mercedes reassured him. "Kurt can do an audition in his sleep."

"I know," Blaine said.

Jo picked up her tray. "So what piece are you auditioning to sing, Mercedes?" she asked.

Mercedes shrugged. "Probably all of them," she said. "Might as well."

"I bet Blaine's working on the Frank Sinatra one," Wes said.

"I'm what?" Blaine said absently.

"God, Blaine, you saw him this morning," Jo said, rolling her eyes. "Separation anxiety much?"

"It's a good thing he got to come with you to camp, or we'd have to deal with this all summer," Wes teased.

"We've only been dating for a few months, we're still in the honeymoon stage," Blaine defended.

Mercedes laughed and reached for a set of silverware; another hand got there first. "Oh, sorry, go ahead."

"Thanks, I-" She paused. "Hi, Dave."

Blaine's back stiffened. Karofsky shifted his weight awkwardly. "Hey," he mumbled.

Mercedes turned her back to him, grabbed her utensils, and pushed forward. "Hey, Dave, I'm Jo," Jo said pleasantly. She handed him a set of silverware.

"Thanks," he said to his shoes.

Mercedes sidled up to Blaine. "Does she not know?" she whispered. Blaine shook his head, his lips set in a firm line.

* * *

><p>"Oh, god, I hate auditions," Lucy mumbled, picking idly at her fingernails. "They make me so nervous."<p>

"Oh, I know, me too," Trent sighed.

Dylan leaned back and grinned, propping his feet up on the seat in front of him. "They're not that bad," he said. "Could be worse."

"I love auditioning," Kurt said. He leaned towards Rachel. "What about you?"

"Hm?" she said, glancing up from her sheet music. "Sorry, I'm just focused. Please don't interrupt my preparation process."

"My preparation process mostly consists of panicking," Lucy moaned, sliding down in her seat and pulling her long red ponytail over her face. "Oh, why do I this to myself every time?"

"I don't know, but stop it, you're making me more nervous," Trent said.

Holly slid off the edge of the stage. "All right, kids, we're going to start the audition process," she said. "When we call your name, come up to the stage and get going. Jesse, start us off."

Jesse picked up a stack of papers. "We're going to start with the Oklahoma scene," he said. "Can I have…Michael McCall and Rachel Berry, please."

Rachel stood up from her seat, show smile already in place. "Break a leg," Kurt whispered. She strolled to the stage, excited butterflies bubbling in her stomach. The counselors looked up at her from their seats in the front row, expressions blank as they balance notebooks on their knees. She nodded to the piano without glancing at her scene partner and began to sing.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe you guys played Frisbee without me," Finn complained.<p>

"Dude, we totally could have used you on our team, but you vanished," Sam said.

Finn frowned. "This camp kind of sucks so far," he mumbled under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Look, you guys go find those Gargler dudes, I'll get a Frisbee," Puck offered. "We've still got like an hour left till dinner, we could get a pretty good game in."

Finn pushed himself off the ground and brushed grass off his shorts. "Awesome," he said. "I think I saw some of them down by the snack shop."

Puck got up and headed towards the sports shed, stretching his arms above his head lazily. The summer sun was unusually hot for June, but he didn't care. It meant he could take of his shirt and watch the girls from the vocal performance cabin gape at him as he walked by. He grinned, then stopped dead in his tracks.

One of the counselors was with the girls, a tall woman with strong, pretty features and dark hair. He froze. "Ms. Corcoran?" he choked.

She turned around. "Oh," she said. She stared at him for a second, then cleared her throat and turned to her campers. "Go on, girls, I'll meet you in a minute."

Puck caught up to her. "I didn't know you worked here," he said.

"Retirement from coaching Vocal Adrenaline wasn't all it was cracked up to be," she said, folding her arms.

He shifted his weight, his heart thumping against his ribcage. "How's…how is she?" he whispered.

Shelby smiled at him. "Beth is wonderful," she said. "She's staying with my parents in town."

"Is…is she talking?" Puck asked. "Can she walk yet?"

"She's hitting all her milestones right on target," Shelby said. "Healthy as can be." She patted him on the arm. "It's good to see you, Noah. I hope you're doing well."

She continued down the path. Puck watched her walk away, his stomach twisting up in the awful knots that he hadn't felt since the day he said goodbye to his little pink bundle through the nursery window.

* * *

><p>"This is it," Wes said. "Cast lists will be up any minute now."<p>

They gathered outside the dining hall with the rest of the camp, all of them waiting impatiently outside the six rectangles of colored construction paper covering the results of the day's auditions. Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand. "I hope I get the Frank Sinatra solo," he said.

"Oh, _now _you care about auditions," Jo teased.

Rachel clasped her hands together, staring at the purple paper like she could move it with her mind if she only tried hard enough. "I cannot wait," she said. "I hope they make her costume like the one in the movie. The lavender gingham is so sweet."

"Ooh, here comes Evangeline," David said. The camp director walked out of the cafeteria doors and headed for the lists. "Here we go."

"I can't look," Lucy moaned, hiding her face in David's shoulder. "Someone hold me."

The entire camp fell silent as Evangeline took the cover sheets off one by one. "Go on, take a look," she said, offering a smile and a wave before hopping out of the way of the crowd.

Blaine let out a victorious whoop. "Frank Sinatra!" he cheered. "I got it!"

"David, David, look for me," Lucy said, covering her eyes.

"You got the Bonnie Jean part in Brigadoon," David reported.

Lucy peeked through her fingers. "Are you serious?" she said. She wilted, exhaling deeply. "Oh, thank God."

"Kurt, what did you get?" Wes asked.

Kurt wrinkled his nose. "One of the gangsters in Guys and Dolls," he said. "At least I get a solo bit in that one." He turned to Rachel. "So, Rachel, did you…Rachel?"

She stood in front of the cast list, still frozen in place, eyes wide. "I didn't get the part," she said numbly. "I didn't get Laurey."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

RACHEL DIDN'T GET A LEAD? WHAT IS THIS MADNESS? HAS THE APOCALYPSE ARRIVED?

Just kidding.

But anyways, here's a nice short chapter. I promise not every chapter will be these itty bitty vignettes; it just sort of worked out that way for this one.

But yeah. Writing this story is using my five years of summer camp counseling experience and twenty years of theater experience, so this is sort of fun!

SO WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN NEXT? WILL RACHEL DIE OF SHAME OR THROW A FIT? WILL BLAINE SURVIVE TEAM BUILDING EXERCISES WITH KAROFSKY? WILL PUCK GET TO SEE HIS BABY? WILL FRANCEY FALL IN LOVE?

Stay tuned!


	7. Wednesday, June 15th

Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, not me.

* * *

><p>"Morning, guys," Finn said.<p>

"Morning," Blaine yawned, his head dropping to Kurt's shoulder as they waited in line for breakfast.

"G'morning, Finn," Lucy echoed, her head on Kurt's other side.

"Hi," Rachel said sharply.

Finn frowned. "What's wrong?" he asked. "You're all…whoa, I didn't know your eyebrows could do that."

"Someone's still upset that she didn't get the part of Laurey in the Oklahoma scene," Kurt explained. "She's going through the stages of grief. Right now we're in stage two: anger."

"At least she isn't crying into our shoulders anymore," Lucy said.

"But…isn't that one of your dream roles?" Finn said, frowning. "Why didn't you get it?"

"I don't know," Rachel said sharply. She crossed her arms over her chest; today she was wearing a tank top with a cartoon rabbit on it. "I've been studying that role for as long as I can remember. I'm _perfect _for it."

"You still got a solo part," Blaine pointed out sleepily. "You're one of the Campbell sisters for the Brigadoon scene, and you got Maria's solo parts for 'Do Ro Mi'."

"Don't remind us," Lucy said, pouting. "Kurt and I have to play two of her children." Blaine snickered.

"This isn't funny," Rachel said. "You don't understand. I was born to play this part. I don't know why I didn't get it." Her scowl deepened. "I think Jesse's doing this on purpose."

"Who's Jesse and why-"

"Long story, I'll explain later," Kurt whispered to Blaine and Lucy.

Finn glared across the dining hall at Jesse, who was laughing with the other musical theater counselors at their table. "I hate Jesse St. James," he mumbled.

"I'm going to go ask my mother about this," Rachel said. "She might be able to talk them into giving me the part."

"Ah, and we have now reached stage three: bargaining," Kurt said.

Rachel stormed out of the line and marched over to Shelby, who sat by herself at the vocal performance table, skimming a script while she ate a bowl of cereal. She glanced up and smiled. "Good morning, Rachel, how-"

"I didn't get the part," Rachel blurted out.

Shelby looked puzzled, but she sat up and closed her script. "Okay, hon, sit down and take a breath," she said.

Rachel plopped down across from her. "I auditioned for the Laurey scene from Oklahoma, and I didn't get it," she said. "I think Jesse purposefully didn't give it to me because he's still angry that I kissed Finn at Nationals. You need to talk to him and tell him he has to give me the part."

Shelby blinked and set down her spoon. "All right, so some of this I'm just going to ask about later," she said. "But honestly, Rach, I'm not surprised you didn't get the part."

For a second Rachel wondered if she'd been kicked in the stomach, dropped in the Twilight Zone, or was in the middle of a nightmare. It certainly felt like it. "I…you…what?" she stammered.

"Honey, Laurey is a high soprano role," Shelby said. "I know you love the part, but you're just not a high soprano. Your voice isn't meant to sing lyrical soprano parts."

"But…but…I've sung it before," Rachel sputtered. "My voice teacher said it was perfect. And I've sung high soprano parts in glee."

"In glee club?" Shelby repeated. "Honey, your competition consisted of half a dozen girls who didn't have any interest in singing classic Broadway ingénue roles. No wonder you always got them. Look around." She gestured broadly. "For the first time, you're surrounded by girls who are just as talented as you, who have the same drive, the same dreams. They want what you want, and some of them are going to be better suited for certain parts than you are."

Tears pricked behind Rachel's eyes. "But…but I'm the most talented girl at McKinley," she whispered.

"And I bet that every single girl here is the most talented girl at their school too," Shelby said gently. "Baby, if you want this, you can't just coast by on talent. You have to work to compete against these girls." Rachel swallowed a sniffle and rubbed at her eyes. Shelby quietly handed her a napkin. "If this is what you want, Rachel, you're going to have to work your little ass off. When you go to college, when you go to New York, this is going to be your life. You'll face a lot worse rejection out there than you will here."

Rachel nodded, hiding her face behind her napkin. Shelby reached over and rubbed her shoulder sympathetically.

* * *

><p>"I'm so excited!" Teddy chirped. "Team building! My big brother told me that team building is awesome!"<p>

Sam watched the overexcited twelve-year-old bounce up and down. "Okay, who let Teddy near the soda machine?" he asked.

Teddy hopped around the bigger kids in excitement, his curls shining in the sun. "So what are we doing? What are we doing?" he asked.

Their counselor grinned at them. "Trust falls," Brandon said. "You guys are going to get on this platform one by one and fall backwards into the waiting arms of your teammates."

Annabel, the blond pianist, glared at Brandon. "No," she said flatly.

"No, no, everyone gets a turn," Brandon said cheerfully. He ran his hand through his artfully tousled hair. "All right, who wants to get up there first?"

"Me!" Teddy cheered, raising his hand high in the air. "Ooh, ooh, me!"

"All right, Teddy, get on up there," Brandon said. "Everybody get in front to catch him." He frowned. "Noah? You all right, bud?"

Puck blinked. "Huh?" he said. "Oh, yeah, dude, I'm fine. Sorry."

He shuffled into place with everyone else as Brandon explained the exercise further. Finn nudged him lightly. "What's going on?" he whispered. "You've been acting weird since yesterday."

Puck looked down at the ground and gritted his teeth. "Shelby Corcoran's here," he finally confessed.

"What? The old Vocal Adrenaline coach?" Finn whispered.

"Guys, focus," Brandon warned.

Puck gritted his teeth so hard he nearly cracked a molar. "Beth's new mom," he said bitterly.

"Oh," Finn said. "Oh…_oh._" He shifted his weight awkwardly. "Are you and Quinn going to try to see her?"

"I dunno, man," Puck said. "Me and Quinn…we haven't talked since…since the day she was born. I think…she wants to forget she ever had a kid."

"She never said anything about Beth when we were dating," Finn said. "But maybe that's why she's always acting so weird, you know? Maybe she just misses her baby and doesn't want to think about it."

Puck glanced up. "You think I should talk to her about it?" he asked.

"Can't hurt," Finn said. "Well, you know. Can't hurt that much. Quinn might get pissed or something."

"Hey!" Teddy said, flapping his arms as Brandon tightened the blindfold on him. "Y'all gonna catch me?"

"We got you, buddy," Sam said.

"Whee!" Teddy said, flopping backwards.

* * *

><p>Blaine tapped the door to the tech shop open. "Hello?" he called into the cool dimness. "I'm supposed to have a fitting for my costume…"<p>

Jeff popped up from behind a rack of military uniforms. "Hey, Blaine!" he said, slinging a tape measure around his neck.

"Are you doing fittings?" Blaine asked warily.

"No, Lauren doesn't allow me near the sharp objects," Jeff said. "Flint and Knickey are in the back, though." He held up a large light fixture. "I gotta run this up to the theater for Lauren and Artie. See ya!"

Blaine shook his head and headed towards the back room. Several Z-racks lined the walls, hung with costume pieces tagged with names and scene references. He rounded the corner and grinned. "Well, look who else is here," he said.

Kurt glanced over his shoulder and smiled at him. "Hi, Blaine," he said.

Blaine pecked him on the lips, then stepped back to look him up and down. "Very nice," he appraised. "You should wear pinstriped pants more often."

"Hold still," Flint scolded, raising Kurt's arms again as he moved to measure his chest.

"It's my Guys and Dolls costume," Kurt said, glancing down at his black striped pants and pale pink button-up. "Wait till you see the whole ensemble. It's actually not bad."

"Stop moving!" Flint said. He glanced back at Blaine. "Your costume's on the silver rack with your name on it. I think Lucy's just about out of the dressing room."

"No, no, I'm out," she said. She walked out in a full blue dress with a plaid drape around the waist and a navy laced bodice. "What do you think? Is it very Bonnie Jean?"

"You're very…Scottish," Blaine offered.

"You're very _short,_" Knickey said flatly, following Lucy with a seam gauge and a pincushion. "God, we're gonna have to hem this by like seven inches."

"It's not my fault I'm so short," Lucy grumbled.

Knickey knelt down on the floor and folded back Lucy's hem experimentally. "At least your Sound of Music costume fits pretty well," she said.

Kurt paled. "Oh, god, those are put away, right?" he said. "Blaine can't see that one."

"Why not?" Blaine asked as he rifled through the Silver Snakes rack for his costume.

"Okay, so we're playing Von Trapp children for 'Do Re Mi', right?" Lucy said. "Yeah. We're wearing-"

"Don't tell him!" Kurt said.

Lucy rolled her eyes. "He's going to see it anyway," she said.

Kurt's cheeks had gone pink. "It's embarrassing," he mumbled.

"Hummel! What part of 'don't move' is too difficult for you to understand?" Flint asked, exasperated.

Lucy shrugged. "It could be a lot worse," she said. "You don't have to wear a big-ass bow in your hair."

"True," Kurt admitted.

Flint stuck one last pin in the hem of Kurt's trousers and sighed. "This would have been easier if you had held still, but oh well," he said. "Go change, and then Blaine can get ready."

"Oh, we can share the dressing room," Kurt said.

Blaine grinned. "Oh, yes," he said. "Kurt, let me help you get undressed…"

Kurt flushed red briefly, then turned around and beckoned to Blaine. "Come on, then," he teased.

"Don't do naughty things while we're still here," Lucy warned. "I'll tell Finn and Francey on you. Just imagine what they'd do to you."

* * *

><p>"Oh my god, it's melting!" Tina shrieked, hopping back from the bonfire. "It's melting and it's bursting into flames! What do I do?"<p>

Nathaniel calmly pulled her wire hanger out of the fire. "That's why you don't let your marshmallow burn," he said.

The campers gathered around the giant bonfire assembling their s'mores. Santana held three sticks in front of the fire, turning around every so often to glare at Brittany and Francey. "I don't see why I have to make these for all of us," she said.

"You lost rock paper scissors," Francey shrugged.

"Yeah, well, I picked scissors because Brittany always chooses paper," Santana said, rolling her eyes.

Brittany licked chocolate off her fingers. "Francey told me to pick rock," she said. Santana huffed.

Blaine took a bite of his s'more and marshmallow oozed over his chin. Kurt laughed. "Classy," he said, rubbing the creamy ooze off with his thumb.

"Hey, isn't that hot?" Blaine teased.

Kurt stuck his thumb in his mouth to lick off the melted marshmallow and immediately pulled it back out. "Oh, god, yes," he said. "Too hot."

Rachel took her marshmallow stick out of the fire and fumbled to sandwich it. The top graham cracker slid off and fell to the ground. "Of course that would happen," she said irritably. "This is just the worst day."

"I'll get you another one," Finn offered.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Thank you, Finn," she said. "That's very kind of you."

Finn grinned affably at her before dodging through the crowd towards the table laden with s'mores supplies. He reached to grab a graham cracker and bumped into another hand. "Oh, sorry, I…"

His voice trailed off. Dave Karofsky glared at him. "Take it," he said gruffly.

"Thanks, I will," Finn said. He leaned in. "You know, you've got some nerve coming around here. You made our lives a living hell at McKinley, you tortured my brother so bad that he had to transfer schools…now you just show up here."

Karofsky just stared at him, then turned and marched away to sit on the edge of the bonfire with a tiny brunette in a Red Jaguars tee shirt. Finn didn't realize he'd clenched his fists until he realized he was holding a handful of graham crumbs instead of a cracker.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

Another short vignette-y type chapter! It's actually sort of fun to bounce from scene to scene when I write. And writing from POVs other than Kurt or Blaine...

But yeah! A new chapter! Yay! The next one will be up on Friday.

I'm really wondering what you guys think of Rachel and Shelby's conversation. I've been in theater since I was pottytrained, and trust me, I grew up surrounded by Rachels. I even had some Rachel tendencies before I got to college and wised up a bit. I'm really excited to explore Rachel's thought process.

Also, feel free to suggest things you want to see- characters, pairings, songs, musicals, plays, anything. Understand that I can't use everything, but I'm writing this story so we don't go bonkers during the hiatus- I might as well write things that people besides me like! Although I'm going to kick off some plotlines that I'm very, very excited about (FIZZY. DARLING BETA. YOU SHOULD EMAIL ME ABOUT SAID PLOTLINES. :D)

So...tell me what you think, tell me what you want to see! Or just, you know, tell me how your day was. Apparently everyone went to the dentist yesterday.

BUT...WILL PUCK AND QUINN ACTUALLY ACKNOWLEDGE THEIR MYSTERIOUSLY FORGOTTEN BABY? WILL RACHEL ACTUALLY LIVE WITHOUT BEING THE LEAD? WILL SOMEONE PLEASE STOP GIVING TEDDY CAFFEINE? AND WHAT THE HELL ARE KURT AND LUCY WEARING FOR THE SOUND OF MUSIC SCENE?

Find out on Friday! :D


	8. Friday, June 17th

Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, not me.

* * *

><p>Tina stared glumly into her scrambled eggs. Nathaniel nudged her lightly. "What's got you down?" he asked.<p>

"Nothing," she sighed. "I'm just scared that I won't remember my lines during dress rehearsal tonight. I keep running them through my head and I forget to eat."

"You only have eleven lines," Thad said, shoveling eggs into his mouth. "You'll be fine."

"You can try writing them out," Zooey suggested shyly. "That's how I learn mine."

"You could always paraphrase," Quinn shrugged. "As long as it means the same, I'm sure it's fine."

Thad whipped around so quickly it probably gave him whiplash. "Are you _serious_, Fabray?" he said. "You can't _do _that. A playwright chooses each word with precision and care. You can't just…just sum it up."

"The audience won't know the difference," Quinn said. Thad attacked his bacon with a vengeance, grumbling under his breath.

Tina sat up. "Why is the camp director coming over here?" she asked.

Zooey blanched. "Are…are we in trouble?" she said.

The brunette camp director strolled over to them. "Morning, kids," she smiled. "How are things going? Ready for dress rehearsal?"

"Mostly," Thad said, shooting a glare at Quinn. She forced a smile at him.

Evangeline didn't notice. "Nathaniel, I have a question for you," she said. "How would you like to be an ASM for next week's show?"

Nathaniel straightened up. "I'd love to," he said. "Thank you."

She patted his shoulder. "Come to my office during free time on Sunday," she said. "I've asked a girl from the dance cabin as well, so the two of you will be working together. We'll plan out our week then." Evangeline adjusted her thick-framed glasses and smiled at the others, offering a wave. "See you, kids."

Zooey visibly deflated. "Oh my goodness, I thought we were in trouble," she sighed.

"What's an ASM?" Tina asked, curious.

"An assistant stage manager," Nathaniel explained. "See, Evangeline works as the stage manager for every show, and she picks two campers each week to be her ASMs. It's kind of a big deal."

"And then," Thad said, swallowing a mouthful of scrambled eggs, "for the end of the summer extravaganza, she picks the person that she thought was the best ASM to be the stage manager for the show. And that is a _huge _deal."

"Congratulations, then," Tina said. "That's awesome."

Thad whirled around, gesturing with his fork. "Tina, what's your cue to enter for your first scene?" he demanded.

Tina stared blankly at him for a second. "Oh my god," she said. "I…I…"

"It's okay, I'll help you," Zooey said hastily, pulling her script out of her tote bag.

* * *

><p>"All right, you guys," Shelby called. "Team building time. Everyone excited?"<p>

The Silver Snakes cheered; Blaine joined in half-heartedly. Wes elbowed him. "Stop staring at Karofsky," he whispered. "You're acting like a creeper."

"I can't help it," Blaine whispered back.

"He's not going to suddenly flip out or anything," Wes whispered. "The guy hasn't even said two words so far this week."

"Gentlemen," Shelby warned. "No talking while I'm talking." Francey grinned at them fiendishly from behind Shelby's shoulder; both boys clammed up instantly.

"Now, the objective of this team building exercise is for you guys to cross this ropes course without anyone falling over," Shelby said. "If someone falls off, then Francey is going to tie a bandana on you. If she picks an arm, you can't use that arm. She might tie your legs together. Or she could blindfold you."

Mercedes raised her hand. "Hold up," she said. "Are you trying to kill us?"

"I'm trying to get you guys to work together," Shelby said. "If you see somebody falling, you need to help them out." She clapped her hands. "All right, you guys, line up."

Jo immediately made a dash for the line, dragging Wes behind her. "What are you doing, Joanna?" Wes protested.

"I'm making sure you're behind me, Wesley," Jo said. "If I fall, I'm probably going to fall backwards, and you had better catch me."

"This is too much pressure," Wes complained.

"Hush up, Chang," Mercedes said. She got in line behind him, then beckoned to Blaine. "Mr. Warbler, you're gonna catch me, all right?"

"You do remember my last name is Anderson, don't you?" Blaine pointed out.

"Warbler is funnier," Mercedes shrugged.

Blaine opened his mouth to protest further, but clamped his lips shut as the other campers filed in behind him. _Of course, _he fumed mentally. _Of course David Karofsky would end up directly behind me._

"Stop staring at it! It's not going to bite you!" Francey shouted. "Get on up there!"

She pinched the first camper in line, a lanky guy with shaggy hair. Startled, he hopped onto the first of the tall stepping-stones, latching onto the rope above to keep his balance. "See? Was that so hard?" Francey said. "There you go. Keep going. You, there. Yes, you. Stop staring at clouds and get a move on, you're next."

Blaine gritted his teeth as they moved up in line, ignoring the cheerful argument going on between his friends. He could feel Karofsky's eyes boring into his back, and he resisted the urge to shiver. Or turn around and clock the guy, whichever impulse won first.

Mercedes gingerly took hold of the rope. "Blaine, if you see me so much as lean, you'd better catch me," she threatened.

"I got it, I got it," he said.

She pulled herself up to the first stepping block and hopped to the next one, swinging the rope back in his direction. "Catch!" she said.

He caught the rope easily and pulled himself with one smooth motion. Without looking back he stepped to the next one and swung the rope towards Karofsky.

Ahead of him, Wes wavered atop one of the taller blocks and tipped over. "Jo!" he scolded, sprawled out ungracefully on his back. "This deal was supposed to go both ways!"

"Sorry," she apologized.

"Wesley, guess who gets his legs tied together?" Francey singsonged, pulling a bright orange bandana off her belt and snapping it in his face.

He sighed heavily. "This sucks," he said as she tied his ankles together expertly.

"It sucks for you, but it's more fun for me to watch," Francey grinned.

Blaine laughed as Wes struggled to get back to his block, both Jo and Mercedes stretching to help him. He was still keenly aware of Karofsky's stare; he scratched the back of his neck as though he could get rid of the strange crawling feeling that way.

He took another step forward, swinging on the rope with his feet high above the ground. "Yeah, get it, Tarzan," Mercedes teased.

He grinned and let out a mimic of a Tarzan yell, making Jo laugh. "Come on, Babbie, stop showing off and keep going," Francey said.

The tips of his ears flushed red. "You can't call me that!" he said.

She swatted at his butt affectionately. "I can do whatever I like," she said. "Keep it moving."

He rolled his eyes. "Keep an eye on your teammates," Shelby called. "Don't let anybody fall. You're doing good so far."

"Hey, toss the rope?"

He glanced over his shoulder to see Karofsky behind him, waiting to move. Without thinking Blaine let go of the rope. It swung back, but not far enough for him to reach. Karofsky leaned too far forward and stumbled to the ground, earning a disappointed cry from the campers behind him. He looked up at Blaine.

"Oops," Blaine said.

But he regretted it as Karofsky dropped his head and Francey moved to tie a green bandana around his wrist. He shouldn't have done that. He shouldn't have been so childish.

_Kurt's going to be disappointed in me, _he thought.

* * *

><p>Puck jogged down the path. "Quinn," he called. "Hey, Quinn, wait up."<p>

The blonde glanced at him over her shoulder, her eyes shielded by large dark sunglasses. The other girls walking with her stopped; the tiny brunette quickly hiding behind Quinn. "Hey, Puck," Tina said.

"Hey," he said. "Listen, Quinn, can I talk to you?"

She shrugged. Tina glanced from her to Puck and took the tiny brunette by the arm. "Come on, Zooey," she said. "We can go work on our lines. Q, meet you in the dressing room?"

"Sure," Quinn said, still looking at Puck. She waited for the other girls to disappear further down the path before speaking again; Puck shifted his weight anxiously. "So what do you want, Puckerman? We've got to get to dress rehearsal."

"It's important," he said. He took her by the elbow and steered her towards the shade of a tall tree. "Really important."

She folded her arms. "What kind of important?" she asked warily.

Puck took a deep breath. "Shelby Corcoran's one of the counselors here," he said.

She stared at him coolly.

"Well?" he said.

"Well, what?"

"Well, I don't know, aren't you supposed to…react or something?" Puck asked.

"Why should I care that the old Vocal Adrenaline coach is here?" Quinn said, one finely sculpted brow arching over her sunglasses.

Puck gaped at her. "Holy shit, Quinn," he said. "Don't you care?"

"Care about what?"

He took a step towards her. "Shelby has our kid," he said. "Don't you want to know how she's doing? I mean, she's a year old now. She's probably walking and talking and-"

"Puck, I don't want to discuss this with you," Quinn interrupted sharply. She turned away from him and headed down the path.

He followed her. "Come on, Quinn, don't you care about her?" he pressed. "Don't you ever think about Beth? Our Beth?"

She turned around sharply. "This isn't up for discussion, Puck," she said, her voice rising. She stalked away from him, her blonde ponytail swinging rapidly back and forth. He stood in the middle of the path, shoulders slumping, and watched her walk away.

* * *

><p>Finn fumbled through the darkness of the wings and tripped for the umpteenth time. "Ow!"<p>

"Sorry, sorry," he apologized.

A blurry figure stood up in the darkness. "Finn?" Rachel whispered.

He paused and grinned. "Hey," he said. "You sound really good tonight."

"Finn, I was only in the chorus," she said.

He shrugged. "I can always hear you," he said.

Her smile shone in the dark. "Really?" she said hopefully.

"Yeah," he said. "You always sing so loud and stuff."

The smile faltered. "It's called projecting," she said. She glanced towards the stage as a boy and a girl sang their romantic duet. "That was the part I was supposed to get."

He followed her gaze. "They sound all right, I guess," he said. He nudged her lightly. "You would have been better."

She ducked her head; he could practically see her blushing. He sidled closer. "So…you and Jesse aren't…"

"Aren't what?'

"Aren't…you know, dating," he finished awkwardly. "God, I didn't mean to just blurt that out."

"No, we're not dating," she said. She sighed. "I don't know what's going on in his head lately. He didn't talk to me after Nationals, and now he's just…everywhere."

Finn frowned. "I don't like him," he said flatly. "He's no good."

Another figure materialized in the darkness. "What my brother means is that Jesse's no good for you, and he would be much better," Kurt whispered between them. "But you two will have to finish this conversation later, because Rachel and I have to go sing."

"Dude, why aren't you in costume?" Finn asked.

"They're not done altering them yet," Kurt said. "Believe me, though, you do _not _want to see me in it. It's horrendous." He tugged on Rachel's arm. "Come along, Fraulein Maria."

Kurt propelled her to the edge of the wings in preparation for their cue. Finn could see her take a deep breath and close her eyes. He leaned against the rigging, watching her mouth her opening lines.

A hand reached out and smacked him across the back of the head. "Out of my flies, Hudson," Lauren said as she passed by.

Finn straightened. "Sorry," he whispered loudly.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

Sweet lord! I'm already behind!

Please forgive the lateness of this chapter; I spent yesterday at my parents' house celebrating Father's Day early and spent today ripping organza fabric into strips (my job can be weird sometimes). But hopefully I'll be right back on track soon enough!

Have any of you ever been an ASM before? That job nearly gave me a heart attack, not going to lie. I ASM'd a production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat once. Gah. Never again. I was not cut out for stage management. 

And also it is late and I am tired, so this is a brief author's note. Keep reading; I'll try to update soon!

(Although I would greatly appreciate it if you didn't ask me when I'm going to update. It stresses me out like whoa, man!)**  
><strong>


	9. Saturday, June 18th

Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, not me.

* * *

><p>Rachel sat at the hair and makeup table, staring intently at her reflection. <em>You can do this,<em> she thought, warming up for her traditional pep talk to herself. _You were born for this._

She started to smile until another rebellious thought surfaced. _You were born to be a lead, not a background singer._

She clamped her mouth shut as her eyes began to water. Her lips trembled. In the makeup table's mirror she saw Jesse sidle closer to her. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing's wrong, Jesse," she said dropping her gaze.

Jesse pulled up a stool next to her and sat down. "You're not still mad about not getting the Oklahoma part, are you?"

"It doesn't matter," she said, taking a deep calming breath and smiling at her reflection. "There are no small parts, only small actors."

"The actor who came up with that pithy quote was most likely pissed that he didn't get a lead role," Jesse said sincerely. "Every actor since who's used that is lying to themselves."

Rachel sighed and picked up a mascara wand. "I might be a little upset that I didn't get the role I wanted…or any lead role for that matter…but there's always next time," she said firmly.

Jesse watched her apply mascara with a liberal hand. "I know you're upset," he said matter-of-factly. "Your dream roles are Laurey from Oklahoma, the title role in Evita, and Fanny-"

"Fanny Brice in Funny Girl," Rachel finished. She set down the mascara wand and turned to look at him. "You remember."

"Of course I do," he said seriously. He reached over and picked up the mascara wand. "I know our history has been very up-and-down over the last year and a half, but don't think I don't remember the little details you've shared with me." He twisted the cap on the mascara wand and put it back in her makeup kit. "Don't let that dry out."

She looked down at the innocent black tube as he stood up and slid the stool away. Jesse bent close, his lips close to her ear. "I still think we've a perfect match," he whispered. "I'd kiss you now, but you don't have enough time to reapply your makeup if I smudge it."

Instead, he patted her on the shoulder and walked away. Rachel stared down at her makeup kit and hastily picked up a lipstick tube.

"Hey," Finn said, crossing the green room to get to her. "Hey, was he bothering you?"

"No, it's fine, Finn," Rachel said as she uncapped her lipstick. "Are you ready for the show?"

"Yeah, but…are you sure he wasn't bothering you?" Finn pressed. "I mean, it looked like he flirting with you and stuff."

Rachel carefully smoothed on her lipstick and smacked her lips together. "He was sort of flirting, but I don't really think it matters," she said.

Finn blinked in confusion. "But…I thought…"

Rachel pushed her makeup stool back with a loud scrape. "Finn, the show's going to start in ten minutes and I have't had time to prepare," she snapped. "Can everyone please leave me alone so I can be in the proper headspace for my performance?"

She brushed past Finn, swinging her arms as she stomped away. She nearly bumped up against a pretty girl in a lavender gingham dress, and her heart constricted.

_That should have been my costume_, she thought, and she stormed out of the green room.

* * *

><p>"Quinn!" Thad called sharply. "Quinn, we're on in fifteen. Aren't you ready yet?"<p>

"In a second," she said absently, lazily sketching a line of eyeliner along her top lash line.

"We don't have a second," Thad said. "We're running lines. Come on."

"I'm not done with my makeup," she argued.

Thad rolled his eyes. "Your makeup would be done if you showed up at your actual call time instead of ten minutes late," he snapped. "You're just lucky the stage manager didn't take up the sign-in sheet before you got here, or you'd be in for it."

She tossed the eyeliner down, took a deep breath, and turned to him with a sweet smile, her hands clasped on her lap. "You want this to be a good performance, right?" she said. "Well, you should probably leave me alone so I can get into character properly."

She mentally thanked Rachel and her never-ending performance-related tirades for that one, because Thad rolled his eyes one more time (this time so hard she was sure they were going to get stuck back there) and stomped out.

Quinn turned back to the mirror and bit back a sigh as she stared at her heavily made-up reflection. "You ought to hear Grandpa on the subject," she recited dully, running through her lines. "You know he says most people nowadays are run by fear. Fear of…" She paused. "Fear of…"

She squared her shoulders. "Well, you're screwed," she informed her reflection.

* * *

><p>Kurt hid in the wings as the dancers performed "Luck Be a Lady," tapping his toe to the beat of the music. He felt Blaine's arms sneak around his waist and he smiled. Blaine rested his chin on his shoulder. "What are you doing?" he whispered.<p>

"Watching and not talking," he whispered back. "You should do the same." He frowned. "Blaine. You can't kiss my neck right now. I'm in costume."

"I know," Blaine whispered, his breath soft and warm against his ear. "This costume is amazing."

Kurt grinned. "I talked Flint into taking in my pants a little bit more on the thighs," he said. "You like?"

"I do," Blaine said. He tucked his thumb in the waistband of Kurt's pinstriped pants. "So…I'm thinking…after the performance…"

Kurt tugged away. "Uh…I won't be in this costume at the end of the show," he said. "I'm wearing…something terrible. I hate it. It's the furthest thing from sexy. You'll hate it."

"I'll always think you're sexy," Blaine promised.

"If you find me sexy in this costume, you'll be a total creep," Kurt whispered. He adjusted Blaine's collar and set his fedora at a rakish angle. "Now run along, Frank Sinatra. It's your turn to sing." He leaned in and kissed Blaine, the brims of their hats brushing. "Break a leg, Mister Anderson."

* * *

><p>Rachel paced anxiously back and forth in the green room, tangling her hands together. "Oh, I'm so nervous," she sighed.<p>

"We know," Trent said dryly. "You've only mentioned it every two minutes."

"I can't help it," she said, flinging her arms to the sides. "I have the Brigadoon scene and then the Sound of Music scene. And I have to prove that I'm talented, or when we have auditions on Monday, I won't get cast again."

"Honey, it'll be fine," Dylan said. "Everybody knows you're talented. You're going to do great."

"I don't want to be great, I want to be perfect," Rachel groused. She stomped out of the door, nearly knocking over Lucy in the process.

Lucy pulled her full skirt and petticoats out of the way and frowned back at Rachel. "What's wrong with her?" she asked.

"Oh, she's nervous," Dylan said, propping his feet up on the makeup table. "And apparently she doesn't stop talking when she's nervous."

"I don't think she ever stops talking," Lucy sighed. She plopped down in one of the well-worn armchairs, her blue dress and plaid drape poofing around her. "Oh, god, this dress is killing me. It's enough dress for two people."

"At least it's not as ridiculous as your Sound of Music costume," Trent snickered. Lucy rolled her eyes and swatted at him with her rolled-up sheet music.

The door to the green room swung open and Dave Karofsky wandered in, looking out of place and uncomfortable in his costume. "Oh," he said. "Uh…god, this place is confusing. How do I get back up to the wings."

Lucy sat up straighter. "Take the stairwell," she said brusquely, pointing in the proper direction.

Dave looked at her and frowned slightly. "Thanks," he mumbled before disappearing up the curved stairs.

Dylan swiveled to stare at Lucy. "What was that about, munchkin?" he asked.

Lucy blinked. "What was what?"

"You went ice queen for a second," Trent said. "I didn't know you could do that."

She shrugged. "I just told him where to go," she said uncomfortably.

"Do you not like him?" Dylan pressed. "You get along with everybody. Even that Tillie girl who was in the Larks until she spiked the punch at the Christmas party."

Lucy tugged at the lacing on the bodice of her dress. "I might not be very fond of that individual," she admitted primly.

"But-" Trent started to say.

Holly stuck her head in the green room. "Come on, kiddos, it's time," she said. "Places, please."

* * *

><p>Kurt ran backstage as his Guys and Dolls scene ended. "This sucks, this sucks, this sucks," he said as the audience applauded and the actors for the My Fair Lady scene took the stage.<p>

"It's just a quick change," Lucy said, taking his hat and tossing it onto the prop table. "And you've got at least three minutes for it."

"Still not enough time," Kurt hissed, tugging his suspenders off his shoulders.

Lucy unbuttoned Kurt's shirt as he yanked on the zipper of his pants. "Kurt, it's a costume, not one of your beloved designer outfits," she said. "You shouldn't be fussing about not being able to take your time getting dressed."

"It's messing up my hair," Kurt complained.

Lucy paused long enough in unbuttoning his shirt to pinch his bare stomach. "Shut up and strip, Hummel," she said. She untucked his shirt and slid it off his shoulders. "God, what Blaine wouldn't do to be in my shoes right now."

"Oh god, I forgot about this when I had Flint take in my pants," Kurt said, tugging uselessly at the side seams. "Oh god. Tight pants are no good for quick changes."

"It would help if Rachel was actually helping like she was supposed to," Lucy hissed.

Rachel didn't turn around from her spot between the flies, already dressed in her dirndl with a guitar tucked under her arm. Kurt sucked in his breath, and shimmied halfway out of his pants. "Okay. Okay, they're sort of off," he said.

Lucy picked up the shirt to his Sound of Music costume and stuck her arms through the neckline. "Let this teach you a lesson about wearing painted-on pants," she said. She pulled the shirt over his head as he tugged the pants off. "Kurt, these costumes are awful."

"We look ridiculous," Kurt sighed as he shoved his arms through the sleeves and she picked up his shorts.

"Nice underwear, by the way," she said. "Is that satin?"

"Silk, actually," he said. He pulled the shorts on and tugged the hems of his knee socks around his calves. "Lucy, do we have to go out like this?"

"I'm afraid so," she said, straightening his long droopy tie. She picked up a comb from the prop table and smoothed his hair down over his forehead. "Aw, you look like you're six."

"So do you," he retorted, adjusting her hairbow so it stood up in jaunty, perky points.

Rachel grabbed them both by the arms and dragged them towards the flies. "Come on, come on, we're on," she hissed.

"Thanks for all your help, Berry," Kurt snorted.

She ignored them and instead positioned them behind her, along with the other five Von Trapp children. The lights dimmed as the My Fair Lady actors left, and they slipped to their places in the dark- Rachel seated in the center with the children gathered around her.

The lights went up. The audience blurred below them, nothing but a sea of faceless people beyond the lights, but there was still that undeniable surge of adrenaline that came from knowing that there was a live audience watching them, waiting on their every word, their every note.

It was a heady feeling, to say the least.

"Fraulein Maria, can we do this every day?" one of the Von Trapps asked.

"Don't you think you'd get tired of it?" Rachel countered, smiling brightly, her showface plastered on.

"I suppose so…every other day?"

"I haven't had this much fun since we put glue on Fraulein Josephine's toothbrush!" Kurt said, happy and childlike. The audience laughed at that one.

Rachel shook her head, still with that smile. "I don't understand how children as nice as you can play such tricks," she said merrily.

"It's easy," another Von Trapp shrugged.

"But why do it?" Rachel pressed.

Lucy shrugged. "How else can we get Father's attention?" she said.

"Oh, I see," Rachel said, without giving time to actually look like she had given it any thought. "We'll have to think about that one." She picked up the guitar, a few lines too early. "Now, let's think of a song for the baroness."

"Father doesn't like us to sing," the smallest Von Trapp girl said.

"Perhaps we can change his mind," Rachel suggested. "Now, what songs do you know?"

"We don't know any songs," the oldest Von Trapp boy said.

Rachel's mouth widened in a surprised, exaggerated O. "Not any?" she said, aghast.

"We don't even know how to sing," Kurt offered.

"Let's not lose time. You must learn," Rachel said.

"But how?"

Rachel pretended to strum at the guitar while Puck, from the orchestra pit, took up the melody. "Let's start at the very beginning," she sang, "a very good place to start…"

* * *

><p>The applause began to die down as Evangelina took center stage. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, concludes our first performance of the summer," she said into the mic, her amplified voice reverberating through the theater. "Be sure to hang up your costumes neatly and have the green room clean before you leave. Respect your crew and don't give them extra work. We'll see you tomorrow for post-mortems."<p>

She walked offstage as the house lights came up, and the auditorium broke into noisy chatter. "That was a good show," Wes announced to no one in particular. "Really good performances."

"It was _horrible_," Rachel moaned.

"You did fine," Mercedes said.

"I was _awful_," Rachel said, jumping up from her seat and running towards the green room, already bursting into tears. Jo frowned. "Does she storm out like that a lot?" she asked.

"You have no idea," Mercedes said. "Drama is like oxygen to us in New Directions."

"Apparently it's rubbing off on my Warblers," Wes said, glaring across the auditorium as he folded his arms across his chest. "Why is Thad yelling at that blonde girl?"

"Maybe because she forgot half her lines and just stared at the audience for most of the scene," Jo said. "I would yell too." She made a face and tugged on her dress. "But now it's all over for the week. And now to get out of this stupid costume."

Wes looked her up and down, eyeing her purple 1950s-style wiggle dress. "I don't know, I think I like it," he said.

She smacked him upside the head. "You're not the one wearing it," she said. "And I'm also in heels, I might add. Heels. I am taking this off. Let me go find Lucy."

"Yeah, I'm sure she wants to get out of her costume," Mercedes snickered.

"Well, gee, thanks, Mercedes."

They turned around to see both Kurt and Lucy standing behind them in their matching white and navy sailor uniforms. The tops were identical- loose and blousy with big floppy ties and long sleeves- but Lucy wore a knee-length pleated skirt and Kurt wore shorts. Both wore white knee socks and black shoes. "Ha, ha, we know, we look hilarious," Kurt said unhappily.

"You look precious," Jo cooed, pinching their cheeks.

"We look like Victorian jailbait," Lucy said dryly. "Let go of my face, Joanna."

"Can we go change now please?" Kurt pleaded. "I want to leave before Blaine-"

"Kurt! Hey, Kurt!"

Kurt facepalmed.

Blaine hopped over the row of seats and stumbled to a stop, a huge grin spread across his face. "Hey, babe," he said. "Nice outfit."

"Blaine, stop looking at me," Kurt groaned, covering Blaine's eyes with his hand. "I look so stupid. A new level of stupid."

"I'll always think you're handsome, no matter what you're wearing," Blaine promised.

Kurt parted his fingers a little and Blaine blinked. "You're just saying that," he accused.

"No, I promise," Blaine wheedled. "Please?"

Kurt sighed and dropped his hand. Blaine leaned in and kissed him. "All right, now I'm changing," Kurt said. "Come on, Lucy. Let's go change and pray to anything that will listen that we don't have to do this again."

"Amen," Lucy said fervently.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

SWEET HOLY HELL. HOW DID I GET SO FAR BEHIND?

Oh, well. This means you'll probably get like...two chapters a day for a while. Or something like that. Or I'll tweak my outline a bit to make it easier to catch up. Or something.

BUT YEAH. NEW UPDATE.

This is basically a GPOY of my entire life-sitting in the green room, waiting in the wings, awkward costume changes. I swear, I've had more people see me in various stages of undress...

There was one time I had a quick change _and _an offstage line that I had to yell. The first time I did I almost scared the pee out of my dressers.

AND NOW YOU KNOW WHAT KURT AND LUCY HAD TO WEAR. RIDICULOUS, YES? YES.

I don't know why I'm so capslocky.

Also, I've never really written Jesse before this, but he's sort of fun to play around with.

Also also, for your convenience, here are the performances of note that happened this week (this will come in handy as the final week approaches...) And you can always check them out for fun.

-Green Monkeys: "Luck Be a Lady" from Guys and Dolls

-Purple Parrots: "Waitin' On Me Dearie" from Brigadoon, "People Will Say We're In Love" from Oklahoma, "Get Me to the Church On Time" from My Fair Lady, "Sit Down, You're Rockin' the Boat" from Guys and Dolls, "Do-Re-Mi" from The Sound of Music

-Red Jaguars: scene from You Can't Take It With You

But anyways.

Will Rachel get a lead role in the next performance? Will Quinn get her ass royally handed to her for not knowing her lines and bombing the scene? Will Karofsky continue to be that one kid that no one likes?

STAY TUNED.


	10. Monday, June 20th

Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, not me.

* * *

><p>"Sam!" Mercedes called, waving her arm frantically. "Sam, I saved you a seat!"<p>

He glanced around the busy dining hall and sidled over to her, his overflowing tray in hand. "I thought we were keeping this on the down low," he whispered.

"We are," she said. "I just miss you is all."

Sam grinned and plunked down next to her. "Then I guess a breakfast date is in order," he said, leaning in to kiss her.

Before he could manage it, Teddy popped up at his elbow. "Good morning, Sam!" he said cheerfully, nearly startling Sam into faceplanting in his pancakes.

Mercedes lowered a patented bitch-face at him. "And who the hell are you?" she asked.

"Teddy Cooper!" he said, thrusting out a slightly sticky hand. "I am in Sam's cabin too. I play the violin! And my brother is a Warbler! Do you know the Warblers? They're _awesome_!" He perked up. "Oh, look, there's my brother! I'm going to go say hi!"

"He never shuts up," Sam muttered under his breath as he forked into his pancakes.

"Well, I can tune him out if you can," Mercedes said, sliding closer to Sam.

Just before she could kiss him, Finn loped towards their table, nearly tripping over his untied shoes. They hopped apart. "Hey, guys, have you see Rachel?" he asked. "I was gonna see if she wanted to eat breakfast with me."

"Nope, sorry, haven't seen her," Mercedes said brusquely, hoping against hope that he'd get the hint.

Sam swallowed a bite of his pancakes. "Isn't that her eating breakfast with Jesse St. James?" he asked, pointing with his fork.

Finn's expression darkened. "Uh-huh," he said, and he spun on his heel and stalked away to the other side of the dining hall.

"What's up with him?" Sam asked.

"Rachel envy," Mercedes said. "Boy only wants what he can't have."

"Well, I know what I want," Sam grinned.

"You and your pickup lines," Mercedes teased.

Rachel rushed over to them before they could touch lips. "Oh my god, you guys, what time is it?" she asked.

"Like…I don't know, breakfast time, I don't wear a watch," Sam said. "And Finn's looking for you, by the way."

Rachel pressed her hands to the sides of her nose. "Oh my god, oh my god, I need to go practice," she said. "Oh my god. I have to audition today."

"Yeah, we all do," Mercedes said.

"Yes, but…but…oh, no one understands!" Rachel wailed before rushing to the girls' bathroom with her forearm across her eyes. She ran past Jesse, who glanced up from his grapefruit and blinked, then shrugged and went back to the script he was reading.

"I guess she does that no matter where she is," Sam said.

Mercedes snorted. "You should have seen her last year," she said. "She had a diva-out at least once a rehearsal. I think her record was like…four and a half."

"A half?" Sam repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Puck picked her up before she got all the way out and Kurt tied her to a chair," Mercedes clarified.

"Ah."

"Who did I tie to a chair?" Kurt asked as he plunked his breakfast tray down across from them, looking entirely out of place in his purple tee shirt, sparkly silver converses, and khaki cargo shorts.

"Rachel, in rehearsal," Mercedes said.

Kurt smiled fondly. "Ah, that was a fun day," he said.

"I wish we could tie her to a chair and leave her for a while," Lucy groused, dropping her breakfast tray next to Kurt's with a fierce scowl. "Maybe in the middle of the woods. With honey all over her face."

Mercedes arched an eyebrow. "Lucy's her bunkmate," Kurt explained.

"I will die before this summer is over," Lucy said solemnly.

Sam opened his mouth to answer, but Blaine crept up behind Kurt and Lucy and caught his eye, tapping his finger to his lips. "Mercedes, can you hand me a napkin, please?" Kurt asked, clearly unaware.

Blaine wrapped his hands over Kurt's eyes. "Guess who," he said.

"Blaine, your hands smell like your hair gel," Kurt complained.

Blaine dropped his hands and grinned. "Good morning to you too," he said, dropping a kiss to Kurt's soft cheek.

"Did you get breakfast already, honey?" Kurt asked. "You can have some of pancakes if you want."

Blaine sat down beside him. "What kind?" he asked.

"Blueberry," Kurt said, raising his fork to feed Blaine a bite. Blaine opened his mouth obediently.

"All right, you two, you're acting a little too married," Mercedes said. "Move along before the rest of start puking."

"Come on, we're adorable," Blaine grinned. "Kurt, you've got syrup on your face." He licked the pad of his thumb and brushed at the dimple in Kurt's cheek. "Okay, I fixed it."

"My hero," Kurt smiled, tilting his chin up for a kiss. Lucy rolled her eyes and Mercedes mimed gagging.

"Oh, god, are they kissing again?" Finn said, reappearing with his tray still in hand and his shoulders slumped in defeat. "You think this is bad, you should see them at home."

"That's because you have a natural talent for walking in every single time we try to have some alone couple time," Kurt said.

Finn scowled and sat down by Mercedes. "Trust me, I don't want that talent," he said.

"Finn's just a cockblock," Kurt said with a wave of his hand. "He does it to everyone. I mean, once you get a boyfriend, Mercedes, I'm sure he'll do it to you too."

"Oh, yeah, I can imagine that," Sam said dryly. Mercedes elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

* * *

><p>"Quinn! Quinn! Quinn!"<p>

Quinn glanced up from her magazine to see Brittany running down the path towards her, Santana strolling behind her. "Hi, Britt," she said.

Brittany hopped onto the picnic table and sat down. "I haven't seen you in like forever," she smiled. "Hi. Are you having fun?"

Quinn shrugged. "I guess," she said.

Santana sat down on the other bench of the picnic table and stretched out her long legs. "Hey, Q," she said.

"Hi, Santana," Quinn said, turning a page in her magazine.

Brittany swung her legs back and forth. "How did your auditions go?" she asked. "Ours were awesome. We're doing ballroom dancing and I think the cute little Warbler is going to be my partner."

"That's nice," Quinn said.

Santana frowned. "Okay, hold up," she said. "You've got your bitch face on."

Quinn smiled at her. "I do not have a bitch face," she said, closing the magazine. "I am hot, and irritated, and covered in bug bites, but I do not-"

"You've got a bitch face," Santana said flatly.

Quinn sighed. "I just don't care about the auditions," she confessed. "I don't see the point. I mean, I watch girls like Rachel kill themselves to get a good part, and I…I just don't even care."

"Don't you like performing?" Brittany asked, leaning her elbows on her knees.

"I like it when it's glee club, but that's different," Quinn said.

"How?" Brittany pressed.

Quinn snapped her magazine shut. "I don't know," she said. "Can we stop talking about this?"

Santana laid down on the bench, crossing one leg over her raised knee. "So I heard Shelby Corcoran's a counselor," she said. "How's that going for you?"

Quinn clenched the magazine so tightly in her hands that the cover crumpled and stalked away. Santana raised her sunglasses and watched her go.

* * *

><p>Dave sat by himself in the shade of the arts and crafts cabin, leaning back against the wall as he watched a bunch of the other guys play Frisbee. He could hear some of the other campers in the cabin through the screen windows, laughing and chatting, some of them singing and harmonizing easily.<p>

Everything seemed to come so easily for everyone else. Except him.

Dave heard the screen door open, but it didn't really register until he saw the pair of lavender boat shoes approach him and stop near his knees. He glanced up to the see the tall pretty blonde girl from his cabin standing there, smiling hesitantly. "Hi there," she said.

"Hi," he grunted.

She shifted her weight. "You're Dave, right?" she said.

"Yeah," he said slowly.

She held out her hand. "I'm Joanna," she said. "But you can call me Jo, if you'd like everyone does."

He shrugged. "Okay," he said.

Jo sighed. "Look, I know this is awkward, but I couldn't help but notice that you've been basically by yourself since camp started," she said.

His cheeks flushed. "I didn't ask you to talk to me," he said.

"I know, but it's got to suck to just sit by yourself all the time," Jo said. "I was going to walk down to the snack shop to get a popsicle or something. You want to come with?"

He sighed. "Sure," he said. He pushed himself off the ground and brushed off his hands. "Thanks."

"No problem," she said, sticking her hands in the back pockets of her purple plaid shorts. "So, Dave…that's short for David, right?"

"Yeah," he said, ambling behind her down the path.

Neither of them noticed when the screen door opened again and Lucy stood in the doorway, mouth dropped open as she watched them walk away.

* * *

><p>"So, what'd everybody get this week?" Finn asked, trying to balance his three marshmallows over the fire.<p>

"One big speaking part and one little one," Tina said happily. "They're not exactly the roles I wanted, but still. It means they like me, right?"

"I think they love you," Mike said, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.

Lauren broke a Hershey bar in half and arrange her s'mores halves. "We in the tech department are pleased with this week," she said. "Costumes will be a snap and the lighting will be exciting. As it should be."

"The lights are going to be tight, yo," Artie said. "Brittany, can you hand me another marshmallow, please?"

She obliged. "And I get to dance with the cute little Warbler," she said. "He's so nice. I like him." Artie frowned. "I want to pet his hair and put him in my pocket like a kitten, he's so cute." Artie sat back with his marshmallow in hand, slightly mollified.

Finn nudged Kurt lightly. "And how's life in the musical theater world, little bro?" he asked.

"Well, I get to sing 'I'm Not Afraid' from Songs for a New World, which I am _terribly _excited about," Kurt said proudly. "And Lucy's singing a song from The Last Five Years. She was so thrilled she started crying."

"So why was Rachel crying this time?" Quinn asked warily, gingerly patting her gooshy marshmallow into place. "It didn't look like she was thrilled."

Kurt sighed. "Unfortunately, she didn't get the part she wanted," he said. "She wanted to play Luisa from The Fantasticks, but she got Psyche's solos from Cupid and Psyche instead, and the girl's part in 'The World Was Dancing' from Songs for a New World." He shrugged. "I realize she's unhappy about not getting exactly what she wanted, but I really hope she doesn't do this all summer. She's a total killjoy."

"Do you think we should talk to her?" Tina asked.

Finn perked up. "I'll talk to her," he offered.

"Somebody's got to," Puck said. "We New Directions kids gotta stick together."

Lauren punched him affectionately on the shoulder. "Look at you, you big softy," she teased.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

A short chapter, but it's here, nevertheless! I hope you enjoy it!

Also, if you don't mind, I think I'll answer a couple of reader questions!

**Q: Was Quinn the blonde girl getting yelled at by Thad in the last chapter?**

A: Yes.

**Q: I like it and can't wait for the pranks to start, but it kinda feels like it's turning into the Rachel Berry story (who is annoying and not in a good or funny way). More Kurt pleeeaaassse?**

A: Please let me handle the plot. I've got seven and a half more weeks of camp to write.

**Q: if Shelby's a counselor, who's watching Beth?**

A: Shelby smiled at him. "Beth is wonderful," she said. "She's staying with my parents in town." (from chapter 6)

**Q: Why did the Purple Parrots have WAY more performances than the other cabins?**

A: Because I only listed the performances that are mentioned in the story. Each cabin (except for tech, who is involved in all performances) gets 5-7 brief scenes or songs per week to perform in front of the cabin. I only mention some of them.

**Q: I think Blaine's a bit OOC because he was the one that said that him and Kurt needed to help him out cause he's confused. I know that he has the right to be a but angry now that they're dating but I don't think he would stoop that low.**

A: But then we saw Blaine versus Karofsky in "Night of Neglect." Didn't Blaine shove him forcibly?

SO THERE WE ARE, MY DEARLINGS. A NEW CHAPTER. AND SOME QUESTIONS ANSWERED.

If you have questions, feel free to leave them here! I get a lot (a looot!) so I think I'll make this a regular thing so I can answer them for you!

SO WILL RACHEL FINALLY GET OVER HERSELF? WILL LUCY BUST A CAP IN JO'S ASS? WILL BLAINE AND KURT HAVE SEXY HAMMOCK MAKEOUTS? WILL SAM AND MERCEDES EVER HAVE TIME TO THEMSELVES WITHOUT THE WORLD COCKBLOCKING THEM?

We'll see in the next chapter!


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